Of A Certain Age
by the ramblin rose
Summary: Caryl (primarily) AU. In your 20's you're still growing up, in your 30's your an adult, but no one explains to you exactly what it means when you cross over to being "of a certain age" and you still feel just the same as you did before. Some would say that the excitement of your life is over, but really it's just beginning. M for language, sexual content, etc.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: OK, so I've had a lot of different ideas going on in my head and I've learned that with as flighty and flitty as my mind is, I might as well get them out and share them with you…and get around to them when my muse called to do so. **

**This story is a story unlike any one that I've done before in that it's AU, but the characters are not in their twenties or thirties. The characters that you'll find in this story are all in their forties or older. Numerous characters from the show will play a part and eventually we'll be reaching relationships, but things will develop slowly in some areas…I will get you there, but I don't rush things…I like letting them play out the way that they're going to…the way that feels organic to me. **

**The first chapter (this one) is going to be a little different than other parts of the story, and you'll understand why once you start reading. It's not a "sober" chapter. **

**If it needs to be said, I do not own anything from the Walking Dead and I do not own its characters. I'm just playing with them. All I own from the story is the plot and my personal characters. **

**I'll be writing this as the muse demands that I must. **

**Also, you get a smut/sexual warning for this chapter…especially since it's the opening chapter. If you don't like that…don't read it. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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_She wasn't that kind of woman._

And she reminded herself of that while in her vodka soaked haze she burrowed through her purse looking for her keys.

And she found them, at the bottom of the purse she was semi surprised to find that she still had after the night that she'd had so far.

_She didn't do these kinds of things._

And she reminded herself of that as he skipped turning on the light...as she found the mouth of a rugged stranger in a clash of tongues and teeth...a rugged stranger whose tongue tasted of whiskey and cigarettes.

_She was always a good girl...too good and shy to take a risk._

And she reminded herself of that as he deepened the kiss, pushing her body against the refrigerator before the door was even closed. And as her body, hungry for what it had done without for so long responded on its own and she ground her hips into hip, her fingers tangled on his hair and her own voice coming out on soft moans at the prospective pleasure of a rugged stranger.

_She was respectable...more respectable than the kinds if women who did these things...these things that she would never dare to do._

And she reminded herself of this as she pulled him through the house and to her bedroom...as she guided him right to the place that he needed at least five dates to see...and hardly anyone lasted five dates. And she reminded herself of this as she pushed him toward the bed...pushed him down on the mattress...abandoning verbal communication entirely.

_She was too old for things like this and far too modest. Her body was past its prime and not to be displayed._

And she reminded herself of this as she ripped her dress over her head and struggled with her bra, cursing to herself to the manmade contraption while the rugged stranger lost the clothes he donned. She wrestled her way out of the clinging leggings she wore to keep the dress from being too revealing…too revealing for a woman her age. And she reminded herself that she was to be ashamed of her nakedness just before she found her way out of her underwear and stood before the rugged stranger in all the glory that her forty eight years had to display for him.

Her mind felt so soaked and saturated by the drinks she'd had…so fuzzy and distant and not her own…that she might as well have been dreaming. The rugged stranger in front of her, on the bed, drunk enough himself that he shook his head from time to time as though he were checking to see if he was dreaming, holding himself in his hand, stroking himself as he looked at her…he might have been a mirage or a vision…nothing more substantial than any image that she drew to her mind at night when she searched out, desperately, her own release for the buildup of tension.

_She wasn't the kind of woman who slept with a man that she didn't know. The kind of woman who didn't ask his name…or didn't remember it._

When he stood up, in front of her, she ran her hands over his arms…muscular, strong arms…arms like she hadn't felt under the touch of her fingertips in so long.

_She wasn't aggressive. _

And she reminded herself of that when she dove at him, meeting him once again in the clash of tongues and teeth…when she forced the kiss to be so deep that he pulled away slightly from instinct and need to survive.

The only sounds between them were reduced to grunts, groans, moans…she couldn't remember his name, and she wasn't sure if he'd ever told her what it was. She was almost certain, as well, that he couldn't remember hers if she'd given it to him.

_She never did these kinds of things._

And she reminded herself of that when his strong arms moved her to the bed…when his tongue and his teeth trailed down her neck and scraped and licked at her skin. She moved her body into him…against him…searching him out.

For all she wanted at this point, she could have done this herself. She could have sought out the release without even needing him there…but he was there and as long as he was there…whether he was real or a mirage…she might as well make the best of him.

When he took her nipple into his mouth, biting down on it, she cried out more with surprise and with the welcomed feeling of someone else…some other entity…spending time with the breasts that she'd begun to think were merely to be for decoration, unseen by anyone but herself, for the rest of her life.

"OK?" His gruff voice growled out in the darkness.

"Mmm…mmm…hmmm…" She mumbled back, unable to come up with words at the moment…unable to put together sentences for all the thoughts that she had circling around and pin balling through her mind.

_She didn't take charge in bed._

And she reminded herself of that as desperation flooded through her…desperation to be touched and desperation to feel the things that she ached to feel…things that she was almost beginning to fear that she'd forgotten entirely.

She pushed him, even though she knew that she would be embarrassed about it later…when the vodka haze left her more able to discern if this was real or an elaborate dream…downward, hoping he would serve her…hoping he would do what she wanted him to do.

And she whimpered when, apparently understanding her forceful and desperate plea, he suckled her and teased her, stroking her with his finger…sliding her legs up over his shoulders so that she could feel his muscles move under her.

_She was reserved and she was quiet…the shyest person that she knew._

And she reminded herself of that when she cried out with her orgasm and clung to the blankets that bunched up around her with the movement of her body as she thrusts her hips up, demanding that the rugged stranger taste more of her…take more of her…not stop with giving her the pleasure that she was seeking…the pleasure that had driven her out of her comfort zone and out of her shell and into the smoky bar with the thought of, first, filling her glass and later filling the void that sometimes felt it would eat her alive.

She might have fallen asleep when the haze of the vodka mingled with the sweet relaxation that followed the tremors that shook her body. Her head swam on the bed beneath it and she moaned out the satisfaction at having found what she was searching for, if only for the moment, but she was reminded…at the nip and warm wetness that returned to her too long ignored nipples that the dream wasn't over yet and the rugged stranger was seeking more…more that she wanted.

_She wasn't the kind of woman to be reckless and casual._

And she reminded herself of that when he muttered, his voice muffled by the cloud shadowing her senses, something about a condom…something she was supposed to listen to…something she was supposed to be concerned about…and something she was supposed to answer. His tone indicated clearly, even if her brain didn't take the time or the effort to understand the words, that there was to be concern there…but she had no concerns at the moment.

And she swam up, answering his question only by finding her mouth seeking his out. Finding his jaw, the rough prickle of stubble leading her further on his quest, and then finally finding his lips as she found somewhere the strength and presence of mind to move her body again to meet his…to move her hips to meet his…and to move the hand not digging its fingertips into the toned muscles of his back…down to find the part of him that was seeking the same release that she had found.

_She wasn't the kind of woman who even knew what to say in bed._

And she reminded herself of that when he thrust into her, the quick sting and threat of cramp following from something so unfamiliar, something so nearly forgotten. And she cried out words that came out with her voice…her voice rasping and dry and almost not her own…begging him to fuck her. Begging him to move his body.

And when he moved his, she responded. The pain dulling into a sweet feeling of friction and fullness. Another of the feelings that she'd imagined she would never feel again because she wasn't the kind of woman who would seek them out from just anyone and so few people seemed interested in working for them anymore…time was passing quicker these days for her and for everyone else…and the sense of urgency that everyone carried with them made it harder for a woman like her to find anything worth having.

So she had learned to do without.

But for the moment she was drinking in her fill. She was moving without thinking, her body taking over with a mind of its own. She was falling into rhythm with a man whose name she didn't know and dancing a dance that everyone knew, even before they learned it. Like riding a bicycle, it was something that she hadn't forgotten.

And when she found, for the second time, the glory of the sweet feeling of oblivion that she'd sought out, her mind felt even more unaware…even more like she was floating on a cloud…and she was sure, for at least a moment, that this must all be a dream. The rugged stranger…the glory of tension leaving her body…the distant feeling now of hands and mouths searching and of skin seeking out skin. All of it must be a dream.

_She wasn't the kind of woman that took a man home that would leave before the sun came up._

But when she floated down from her feelings like a feather drifting down in the breeze, she found herself rolling…her body feeling distant and foreign and glorious…around in the soft and familiar blankets of her bed. Her head seeking out her pillow without even allowing her eyes to open and to verify that it was all just the sweet dream of her subconscious mind seeking out what it needed, sometimes, even when she swore to it that it didn't need it all…that she could do without.

And she might have found when she woke from the dream that she had simply woke enough to soothe herself…woke enough to answer her demanding body's requests in the form of a vision of a rugged stranger.

_She wasn't the kind of woman that slept with a man she didn't know._

_She didn't do those kinds of things._

_She wasn't that kind of woman._

_But sometimes, she forgot._


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Wow, the response to this so far has been amazing! **

**I'm sorry about some of the typos in the earlier part of the first chapter. I saw them well after loading it. That's what I get for trying to type something on a mobile device and getting the handy help from autocorrect.**

**Anyway, here's another little chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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The pounding in her head might have drowned out completely the pounding on the door…it might have at least drowned it out for a while, but slowly Carol started to come into consciousness.

She was thirsty…she was as thirsty as if she'd crawled across the Sahara desert on her hands and knees…and her head was pounding with more velocity than her heart had in some time.

When her bedroom door squeaked open, she lifted her head just a bit…just to get a good look at the person who was likely to kill her…because she was far too overcome with everything her body was offering her in the way of aches and pains to have defended herself.

And it was fine…she was ready to go.

But it was Andrea who stepped through the bedroom door…Andrea who brought with her the wafting smell of shampoo and a floral perfume that so sharply contrasted with the smells invading Carol's nostrils at the moment.

Carol groaned.

"You're still in bed? What the hell? It's past nine…I've been beating on your door so long your neighbors are going to think you owe me money," Andrea declared.

Carol groaned again.

Normally it wouldn't be too early for Andrea…normally she was used to hearing Andrea's voice at very nearly every hour of the day…but today it felt like every word that she said was ripping through Carol's brain like hot nails.

"You look like shit…" Andrea said. "What the hell happened?"

Carol tried to focus her eyes…they were far blurrier than they needed to be, and Andrea looked around the room.

And slowly realization began to flood into Carol's mind. It came along with the overwhelming presence of flashes and bits of memory…along with the feelings of her body and the ache between her legs. It came with the tidal wave of guilt and disbelief at what she was pretty sure she had done, but couldn't even piece together correctly.

She groaned again.

"Oh no…" she declared, bringing her hand up to swipe at her face.

"What?" Andrea asked. "Your bedspread is nasty...for crying out loud…what the hell happened to you?"

"I did the thing…" Carol groaned out.

Andrea raised an eyebrow at her.

"What thing?" She asked.

"The thing…I did the thing…Oh God…" Carol responded.

Andrea came over, personal space and respect for privacy something she'd lost so long ago that Carol wasn't even sure her friend had ever really possessed it, and sat down on the bed, close to where Carol's body lie under the cover.

"Did you fuck Alice again?" Andrea asked. "Because if you did…it's not a big deal…but I think if the thing happens three times it's not really something you can call an accident anymore…"

Carol groaned and struggled to sit up, supporting herself with one of her arms while the other rubbed her face and raked through her short hair.

Twice…twice in how many years?

She and Alice had gotten drunk together more than a handful of times…but only twice had things gone from happy drinking and listening to outdated songs to lamenting failed relationships, past failures and travesties, and the passing of time that was marching across their backs and across their faces. And twice the two of them had ended up having to have the awkward conversation of "sorry that we did the thing" that made things awkward for at least a few days before they realized that really there wasn't any harm done…no real damage.

When you drink, as Alice never failed to remind them when anyone was lamenting what they'd done while over their legal limit, shit happens.

"No…I did the thing where I listen to you," Carol declared.

Andrea snorted.

"You should always listen to me…I'm good to listen to…what did you do, though?" Andrea asked.

"I went to the bar…and I met…a guy…" Carol said.

"Did you sleep with him?" Andrea asked, looking far too amused for Carol's tastes at the moment.

"From the way I feel right now? Yeah…and I'm sorry for it…" Carol said.

Andrea chuckled.

"Oooh…long time outta the saddle…now you gotta baby her or she'll bitch at you all day," Andrea declared. "Get up…take a shower…I'll make something for breakfast and get you some water and Tylenol…"

Carol shook her head lightly.

"Get up…we're going to Snydersville today," Andrea said. "Remember? There's a sale and we're stalking that bistro…get in the shower and be nice to your flower…she had a rough night."

Carol rolled her eyes at Andrea, but it was obvious that her friend found this whole thing hilarious. Of course…Andrea was a little more on the promiscuous side than Carol was and always had been. Her "flower," as she referred to everyone's vagina for the entertainment value, hadn't been out of commission in years…at least not for extended stints.

But there was nothing to be done. What's done was done. So Carol pushed back the covers, aware of her own nudity but not caring at this point and Andrea moved to let her get free from the bed.

Carol walked toward her bathroom, wishing her head didn't feel so incredibly horrible, and ignored Andrea's whistling behind her.

"You want me to bring you the Tylenol or whatever first?" Andrea called out. "Or wait'll you eat?"

"Now…" Carol called back.

"Aye aye…" Andrea responded.

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By the time that Carol got out of the shower, having gratefully swallowed down the aspirin thrust at her by the arm that came through the shower door shortly after she stepped in, she felt better and was almost done beating herself up for her transgression.

Though she still couldn't believe what she had done and figured the waves of random guilt and mortification might continue to crash over her for some time.

The man from the night before had been no dream, though, and she noticed when she stepped back into her bedroom to get dressed that Andrea, without being asked, had stripped her bed for her…and Carol didn't even want to know what kind of evidence of her night was left there. Her body was sore enough to confirm that she was out of practice and that she hadn't done a few good warm up laps around the track.

She slipped into one of the loose fitting dresses that hung down to her knees…loving the way the fabric felt against her skin when she felt, otherwise, so uncomfortable at the moment, and she wrestled her way into a pair of matching leggings and slipped into her ballet flats.

Getting ready was a simple process of running some of the styling product through her hair, the volume of the chopped off curls enough to handle most of the style that she'd adapted through the years, and putting on just enough eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss to say that she'd put on make-up, preferring the simplicity to the more complicated process that some of her friends employed to try and hide the truth that they weren't…none of them…twenty anymore.

Carol's group of friends were, perhaps, the greatest blessing that she had in her life at this point.

They called themselves the "Glory Gals"…a name born out of a wine fed bitch session where they had all declared that thirty was the new twenty…and twenty the new thirty…and when they'd begun to hit their forties they'd just begun to find the most glorious years of their lives…they'd just begun to really live.

And in some ways it was more than true.

Gone were so many of the self-doubts that they'd had in their youth. Gone was the need to scrutinize each and every dimple…each and every little imperfection…because the imperfections kept on multiplying and finally you realized that there was no sense in repeating for yourself that "next year" you would fix this or "next year" you would fix that. Next year there would be things to fix, perhaps, that made the problems of this year look like prizes to be won.

Gone were the days of scrounging around…borrowing a dollar here and twenty there…and I'll pay you back…and I've got it this time. Those days were gone with the dime and penny jobs that they'd struggled through…the jobs they'd felt like they were selling their souls for. Because now, even if some of them were struggling, from time to time, to make ends meet, it wasn't what it once had been.

And gone were the days of spending as much time as they once had worrying over what other people might think of them…what someone might say about their hair, their makeup, their choice in clothes…their escapades…and their mistakes.

Because if they were brutally honest with each other, and they more than often were, there weren't too many mistakes that, between them, they hadn't all committed at one point or another.

And all of them had pasts…rich pasts, perhaps…all a little different. But somehow they made them work and somehow those differences had just served to bring them all a little closer together in life. Their current lives were different too…but still they made time, at least once a month, to spend time together. They gathered, typically, at the café that Carol owned and ran with Jacqui to sit and talk under the pretense that they were talking about some book or another…but typically the conversations got out of hand quickly given the fact that the first confession made by any member of the group was that they hadn't read the book, or hadn't finished it.

But now, especially since Carol was staring fifty straight in the face…middle age, they said…and was the oldest of the group by at least the three years that split her from Andrea, she was realizing more and more how important the Glory Gals were to her…how important her friends were.

Because no matter what she'd been through, no matter what they'd all been through…no matter the falling out of touch and back in again that took place so many times in their lives…they'd always been there for each other, supporting each other, in one way or another.

When Carol came into her own kitchen, she was greeted with the smell of coffee and of bacon cooking. She inhaled it deeply and walked to the coffee pot, smirking slightly when Andrea purposely got close to her and bumped her with her hip.

"Feeling better?" Andrea asked.

"Mmmm hmmm…" Carol hummed, fixing her mug.

"So…this guy? Was he hot?" Andrea asked.

Carol groaned again, a quick gush of the guilt she thought she washed off in the shower rushing over her, and leaned back against the counter to watch her friend making misshapen pancakes in one pan while trying to keep the bacon from burning in the other.

"I don't remember…" Carol admitted with a chuckle.

Andrea glanced at her and raised an eyebrow.

"You must have been trashed…" Andrea declared.

Carol nodded her head.

"Unfortunately…I was," Carol said. "Again…shows me what the hell I get for listening to you."

Andrea sighed.

"I told you to go out and have a few drinks," Andrea said. "I told you to find a nice guy…someone you wanted to…use to get things…in…working order. I did not tell you to get so blitzed that you didn't even know if he was hot."

Now it was Carol's turn to sigh.

"I guess it doesn't matter now, does it?" She asked. She chuckled again. "I don't even know what his name was…probably better that way…"

Andrea looked at her for a quick second and then flipped the pancakes she was making out of the pan and onto the small stack she had resting on a plate by the stove. She took the bacon off the heat too and then came over, leaning beside Carol against the counter, and dug in her pocket.

"Wouldn't matter…doesn't matter…but he left a note," Andrea said, a devilish grin curling across her mouth with the last of the words.

Carol watched as Andrea unfolded a piece of paper she'd had tucked in her pocket and held it out for both of them to look at.

It wasn't much of a note…in fact, Carol wasn't sure it constituted as a note at all. In a scrawl there was, written on what she now recognized as a torn piece of paper she'd left on the counter to throw away when she went through the mail and never got around to throwing out, a phone number…and just below it was nothing more than the letter D.

"What was his name?" Andrea asked, studying the piece of paper. "Don? Dan?"

Carol shook her head. It was useless. The name wasn't in her head…she wasn't entirely sure that she'd ever known it to begin with.

"I don't know…honestly…I don't remember…" Carol said.

Andrea's eyes got wide.

"Dick…here have some Dick…come ride my Dick…did you enjoy my Dick…thanks for letting my Dick come to play…" Andrea said.

Carol snorted and sharply elbowed Andrea in the ribs and Andrea slinked away to the other corner of the kitchen, rubbing her side and laughing, holding the piece of paper with a death grip.

"Well…he left this on the fridge, so he wanted you to see it," Andrea said. "You're going to call him, right?"

Carol looked at the piece of paper in Andrea's hand and thought about it. She wasn't sure that she wanted to open herself up for that embarrassment. She wasn't sure that she wanted to face the man and be reminded that she had basically gotten trashed, thrown caution to the wind, and invited him to her home to fuck her…where she'd apparently passed out and he'd left.

She could only vaguely remember what he even looked like, and that had been, perhaps, improved upon by her drunken stupor. He might not even be anything that would interest her…there was really no telling what she might find out, and how horrible it might make her feel, if she dared to dial that number.

And if she remembered correctly, he was drunk too…so she might not be exactly what he remembered her to be either.

She shook her head.

"No…I'm not going to call," Carol said.

Andrea looked at her like she'd lost her mind.

"You have got to call him," Andrea declared. "You must have liked something about him…"

Carol chuckled and shook her head lightly.

"Yeah…I liked that he was willing to go home with me when I was looking for a man to go home with…that's not exactly a foundation to build your future on, now is it?" Carol responded.

Andrea clucked at her and sashayed dramatically across the kitchen, returning the piece of paper to the fridge and securing it in place with one of the fruit shaped magnets.

"We'll leave that there…you might change your mind," Andrea said. "Gotta keep the weeds out of the garden somehow…"

Carol rolled her eyes at Andrea and moved to fix herself breakfast to hopefully get control over the remaining residue of her hangover.

Andrea could leave the number on the fridge if she wanted…but Carol wasn't going to open up that can of potential embarrassment and sheepishly call some guy, whose name she'd have to ask for, and talk to him after she'd done her best to fuck him senseless. She was too old for that kind of thing.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Here we go! Another little chapter. **

**I'm so thrilled to see the excitement for this since I'm really excited about it. It's something that I haven't seen really "done" a whole lot, so I really wanted to do it. **

**I will tell you, though, that characters are probably/possibly going to go a little OOC in places as I adapt them for the story. I'm exploring our characters, but with a very different way of being and a different set of experiences. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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When Daryl first woke up, his initial thought was that he was going to kill his brother for the sound of the blender. After his homicidal tendencies ebbed away a little, he pushed himself upward and finally sat on the edge of his bed, blinking through dry and blurry eyes at the glowing red numbers on the digital clock on his nightstand.

He picked the clock up, blinking a few more times, and finally accepted that the numbers read correctly. He'd slept later today than he'd probably slept in the last ten years…and it was owing, surely, to the fact that he'd gone to bed far later than he should have.

Daryl got up, groaning against the fact that for as much as he wanted to continue sleeping thanks to the hangover that was plaguing his body, he was cursing himself for having laid in the bed so damn long that now he was stiff as hell and Merle was going to give him shit for it.

A trip to the bathroom followed, though, since there was little putting it off…and then he shuffled into the kitchen to find Merle sitting at the table, the reading glasses he kept hidden unless he was using them perched on his nose, reading the paper while he drank down the disgusting tasting protein shakes that he was so damn fond of.

Daryl cracked open the cabinet above the sink where they kept the miscellaneous drugs and opened up the Tylenol. He palmed two of them, cracked open a bottle of Pepto Bismol, and used the minty flavored shit to wash down the pills before he returned both bottles to the cabinet and closed it.

He sniffed at himself and shook his head. He smelled awful…he smelled like liquor sweating through his pores, sweat, stale smoke…and sex.

When he finally looked back at Merle, Merle was looking at him with a shit eating grin.

"Nice ta see ya damn ass up, princess," Merle said. "Thought I was gon' have ta call the morgue here 'fore too long…what the fuck time ya come in? Woke my ass up…with ya knockin' around an' shit."

Before dealing with Merle, Daryl went to refrigerator and got out the carton of juice. He poured himself a glass, hoping the shit hadn't soured but not willing to sniff it at this point for the added energy it required, and sat down at the table, rubbing at his still pounding head.

"Don't know what damn time I got in…" Daryl said. "Too damn late…I can tell ya ass that much. Figured you'd be out…"

"Nah…" Merle responded. "Was gonna go out…but hell…got hung up at work runnin' my mouth…an' then when I got home I was watchin' some damn movie while I was eatin' an' got hung up in it. Figured it was some kinda sign ta stay my ass in for the night…where was you?"

Daryl smacked a little against the film coating his tongue that the juice, sour following the taste of the minty shit, wasn't doing a thing to help.

"Took my ass down ta Salty's…" Daryl said.

Merle chuckled.

"Hell…figured that damn much, Daryl…ya look like hammered shit…" Merle said.

Daryl didn't doubt that, actually. He felt like hammered shit.

He wasn't as heavy a drinker as he used to be…though when he did drink, it tended to get out of hand pretty quickly, especially if he was drinking with the full intention of getting drunk and the forgetfulness of how much he hated the feeling the day after.

Merle, on the other hand, was much more of a drinker than Daryl was…and maybe because of that fact and the fact that he'd built up his drinking stamina over a lifetime of drinking heavily…it never had quite the same effect on him that it had on Daryl.

"Drank too damn much," Daryl commented.

He chuckled as parts of the night came back to him. He remembered most of the night…or at least he thought he did…though he didn't remember it clearly and crisply. He remembered it almost like it was veiled and he'd seen it all through some kind of screen.

"Went the hell home with someone," Daryl said. "Brought my ass back here…she passed the fuck out…"

Merle chuckled and lit a cigarette from the pack resting beside his paper…the paper he'd abandoned at the moment.

"Weren't Janice?" Merle asked.

"Man fuck her," Daryl commented.

Merle laughed.

"That's what the hell I was askin' if ya did," Merle commented, flicking his ashes into the black plastic ash tray that he slid closer to him. Daryl reached for the pack and lit one of the cigarettes for himself.

Daryl had lived with his brother his whole damn life…minus the three months that he lived with Claudia years ago…but that aside, he'd always lived with Merle.

And sometimes he felt like it was some kind of cosmic joke or they were the damn odd couple or something like that. They'd left home together when they were young…moved in with each other, both of them having different ideas about how their lives would go…and they'd just ended up getting stuck that way.

They worked in the same business…a small business owned and operated by a man they both considered to be a friend. They offered a variety of small jobs, essentially, that ranged anywhere from basic plumbing and electrical work to minor landscaping and construction. And the business was a pretty damn good business…they made decent paycheck and worked good hours. There was almost always something to do and if they ever needed to pick up extra hours…which they really didn't need to all that often…there was always the opportunity to do so.

So Daryl worked with his older brother…ten years his senior…and he lived with him…and more often than he'd like to admit he could go entire weeks or months without seeing another damn soul outside of work.

Merle was, and had always been, the more social of the two of them. He'd never had a relationship…at least not one that lasted beyond a week or two…and he said he didn't have any desire to have one. He said that it closed him down from meeting new people…that it narrowed his horizons.

Daryl figured the biggest problem was that Merle had a sweet tooth for women that were a lot damn younger than him…and most of the women he was going for were only going for his ass because they thought he was loaded and they were about to land a sugar daddy for themselves. And although Merle wasn't hurting for money, he didn't have the kind of money they had in mind, so they never really hung around too long after finding out that little tidbit of information.

But who could blame them? After all, Merle was damn picky about the women he took to bed…at least the ones he took to bed a second or third time…and they were always of the age and the attraction level that they could do a hell of a lot better, even if Merle thought he was the cream of the crop.

Daryl was a little different than Merle. Whereas Merle was the confirmed bachelor, and at least pretended to be happy with being so, he called Daryl the sweet one…the romantic one…the kind that gave women flowers for reasons other than to get laid. And Daryl always teased back at Merle that he didn't have to give flowers to get laid…ladies didn't need the extra incentive.

But the truth was that Daryl had always been one of those that somehow got clubbed over the head by all the cheesy ass movies that his brother called chick flicks and declared he hated, even though he was the son of a bitch that could find one on television like a dog looking for a bone.

Daryl had always thought he liked the idea of marriage…of finding that one perfect woman out there and settling his ass down with her…of spending the rest of his life with the woman that he thought was absolutely perfect…having a nice family…being somebody's grandfather.

But life had different ideas, apparently. Because he was marching straight in the direction of being old enough to be somebody's grandfather, but he had yet to find the woman he was looking for.

Assholes talked about fireworks and sparks and excitement…about that woman being the one damn person you couldn't get enough of…that once you found her, you wanted nothing more than to be with her until you died in her arms.

And Daryl had never really found that, though he'd tried to fake it once or twice under the assumption that eventually it might come true…that whatever woman he'd chosen because she had a pretty face or a nice ass…some tits to write home about…like if he kept her around long enough she'd become at least as important to him as a habit…and since he smoked he knew he had the ability to pick those up.

But it hadn't happened yet and for all his efforts the longest damn relationship he'd ever ended up in lasted for six months…nine months if you counted the time they got back together after they broke up just to end up breaking up again. He'd moved in with her for a little while, too…moved right on in and gave that shit a go…but in the end, and after several more short term relationships, here he was, nursing a hangover he'd gone in search of after yet another failed thing, sitting across from his asshole brother who was drinking a strawberry protein shake.

Daryl shook his head at Merle.

"Nah…ain't fucked Janice," Daryl said. "Done with her ass…an' I mean it…stick a fuckin' fork in it done. I ain't playin' 'round with no damn body gon' cheat on my ass…ya know if she'll let one fucker stick his dick in her when she's hooked up with me, she'll let another. I'm too damn old for that shit."

Merle chuckled.

"Who the hell'd ya fuck then?" Merle asked.

Daryl rubbed his hand across his face, trying to wipe away the exhaustion and the burning in his eyes and then he took another drag off his cigarette, blowing the smoke out with something of a hissing sigh.

"Hell if I know," he said. He chuckled. "I ain't knowed her then…just got ta talkin' ta her…she was drunk as fuck…I was drunk as fuck…hell I don't even know what the hell happened…next damn thing I know I was fuckin' her an' then she was passed out stone cold. She could be dead, honestly, for all the hell I know…"

Merle chuckled.

"Ain't nothin' in the paper today," Merle said. "But I'll let'cha know if an article turns up about some damn woman gettin' fucked ta death…get'cha ass over Janice?"

Daryl frowned.

"Yeah…I'm over her," he said.

Though he wasn't sure it was true. In reality, it wasn't that he'd even been into Janice all that much. Hell, he'd met her at a bar…they'd gone out about fifteen times over the course of about three weeks…and she'd fucked around on him and come to him, mascara running all down her damn face…begging forgiveness or some shit like that for a crime he had been too dumb to even know she'd committed. She'd made a horse's ass out of him and he didn't even know about it.

So it really wasn't Janice that he was hung up on. It was more the fact that Janice represented the last in a long line of failed relationships. It was more that Janice represented that once again he'd fucked up…he'd chosen badly, or he'd done something wrong, or whatever the hell it was. She was just another damn strike out in a pretty sucky string of them. And she was one step closer to making him believe that he was pretty damn likely to spend the rest of his life married to his brother.

"What she look like?" Merle asked.

"What?" Daryl asked, snapping out of his moment of sadness over all that Janice represented…snapping out of it to get a good look at Merle…his life partner…Merle…the person he was going to see over the breakfast table until the day that they hauled one of their unlucky asses away for that last long ride.

Merle chuckled.

"Ya got cloth for ears, boy?" Merle asked. "What the fuck ya sugar look like?"

Now it was Daryl's turn to chuckle…and he was at least feeling better as the Tylenol was doing a little something to relieve the pounding in his skull and the pink liquid was settling down the burning of a thousand suns going on in his gut.

"Hell…I don't really remember," Daryl said. He shook his head.

"Oh…bad damn news, brother," Merle said. "Get ole Jim or Jack talkin' too damn loud an' ya set yaself up for a spirited damn game a' bag a' hag…"

Daryl chuckled again and shook his head once more.

"Nah…she weren't no hag…least I'm pretty damn sure she weren't…I was pretty well blitzed when I started talkin' ta her ass…but either she was a good fuck or I was too damn drunk ta know the difference."

Merle hummed at him.

"Both is real damn possible," he responded.

Daryl nodded his head, ceding that point to his brother.

"Young?" Merle asked.

Daryl shrugged.

"Fuck if I could pick her out a' three damn women lined up if I knew one of 'em…" Daryl responded. "Tight…I remember that shit..."

Realization came flooding back over him all too suddenly and he must have shown it on his face because Merle hummed at him again.

"The fuck's wrong?" Merle asked.

Daryl shook his head.

"Fucked her ass bare," Daryl said.

Merle sucked his teeth and then chuckled.

"Damn boy! Don't'cha ass know not ta do that shit? Holy hell…Daryl…hope ya ain't fucked up there…or hope ta hell she don't 'member you neither…'cept when the hell she looks at Junior an' tries ta remember where the fuck he come from…" Merle teased.

Daryl shook his head.

"She pushed it on…I told her I ain't had nothin'…but that ain't the worst of it…I left her my damn number…I remember right now…bigger'n shit…I wrote her out my damn phone number," Daryl said, chuckling at the fact that his brain would offer him, on a one night stand, the idea that it was a good thing to leave his number.

Merle laughed, finding that shit hilarious, as he normally would.

"Such a damn Daryl thing ta do," Merle said. "Well…reckon you can figure out what the hell ta do if she calls…she might just be up for forgettin' ya ass…if you was all that fucked up…an' so was she…might be somethin' she'd rather not go diggin' up."

Merle paused a moment and shrugged.

"Or at least ya can hope she don't…" Merle said.

Daryl nodded his head.

He could hope she didn't call…he could hope he dodged a bullet and that if she'd been something that would make him cringe to come face to face with again he could just go the rest of his life not knowing it…like sailors that found manatees and swore they were mermaids…or he could hang onto the slight hope that she would call…and that she might be a mermaid.

Maybe even the last damn fish in the sea…since he certainly hadn't snagged a catch worth keeping yet.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"She was from over in Highland Park," Daryl said over lunch.

Daryl's memory was slowly coming back to him about the night. He was piecing it together and it got a little clearer when sleep and hydration were in his favor…and when the hangover had passed.

And now he was at lunch, sitting at the picnic tables outside the main office of the little business he worked out of, eating a ham and cheese sandwich with Merle and Axel…both of them giving hell because Merle was narrating his take on the whole damn thing.

"Highland Park…that's pretty damn high society right there," Axel declared. "Hell…I ain't hookin' up with no damn body from Highland Park…"

"Best your ass does is the damn trailer park," Merle responded with a chuckle. "Nah…this asshole don't know if she was from Highland Park or not…hell…went outside they was fuckin' trails through the dirt…fucker had ta damn near crawl from there ta the house…run through the damn yard killed my whole fuckin' family of pink flamingos."

Daryl reached and hit Merle in the back of the head, making his brother laugh.

"Weren't that damn bad," he protested. "Just drank too fuckin' much…I was pissed the fuck off…"

"An' fucked the hell up," Merle responded, chuckling. "This asshole…comes up the next mornin'…don't know who the fuck it was he laid it too…but he 'members he ain't wrapped the shit."

Axel laughed then, shaking his head and getting up, clearing the table of trash that he could throw away in the nearby barrel. He came back, lighting a cigarette before he even sat down.

"Bad news, Daryl," he declared. "You don't want you no Highland Park babies…can't afford 'em."

Daryl shook his head, but didn't respond.

"An' ya don't got a damn clue who it was? We work Highland Park a good damn bit…which house was it?" Axel asked.

Daryl shrugged.

"Hell…all them fuckin' houses is the damn same just about…reckon if I knew what the hell it looked like wouldn't do no damn good…" Daryl responded. "I 'member…though…she was…blonde…built damn good…good damn fuck. That's all the hell I got right there…" Daryl said.

And even as his memory was coming back, and even as it was offering him flashes and pieces of the night, he couldn't remember her clearly…not really. He figured a lot was owing to the fact that Salty's was pretty poorly lit. They said it was ambience lighting…but it really boiled down to was the fact that keeping the lights dim made it easier to drink yourself into thinking the people there were prizes to be had.

And when they'd left Salty's?

Daryl's memory only offered him pieces of that…at least it only offered him pieces of driving to Highland Park…because he remembered trying damn hard to focus on her taillights…remembered she drove an SUV, but hell if he knew what kind or even what color…because he didn't want to ram her ass with both of them being probably far too damn drunk to have made the drive.

But it was dark outside…and it was dark when they got inside…and he didn't even remember if he'd seen her clearly at all, or in decent light, from the time they met to the time that he thought it was a good damn idea to leave his number written on the only piece of paper he could find and stumble his way out her door to get to his truck…though he did remember that he found, somewhere, the presence of mind to flick the lock on her door before he closed it…because he remembered thinking it would be shitty to just leave her passed the fuck out and leave her open to anyone coming in if they desired.

From there his mind went pretty much blank until he got home, wondering how the hell he made it there…and he'd stopped to drink directly out of the sink faucet like a dog before he took himself to bed and passed out with most of his clothes poorly put on.

"Blonde…built damn good…good fuck…" Merle responded, lighting his own cigarette and passing the pack to Daryl. "Means her ass was either none a' the above, or ya best be hopin' the damn phone don't ring, boy!"

Daryl shook his head again and lit his own cigarette fished out the pack.

"She ain't called…she ain't gon' call," Daryl said.

"Give it time," Merle said around the cigarette in his mouth. "Ya bagged ya a' young'un an' she'll be callin' 'bout'cha fuckin' child support…two weeks' time."

"Wonder who the hell it was," Axel repeated. "Hell…Highland Park…we all the damn time over there…"

"Just drop the shit…don't matter no way," Daryl spat. "It was a one-time fuck…a bad damn mistake made 'cause both our asses drank too damn much…she don't wanna remember that shit and neither do I…so drop it."

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"Would you pay attention to me?" Carol called out over the din of voices. "Mediterranean wrap or the Asian one? Jacqui's got to take this to the printers tomorrow…"

But no one was paying attention to her…they weren't even paying attention to each other. There were at least three different conversations going on and no one was paying attention to any of them, at least not entirely.

Carol hovered her pen over the notebook paper she was revising for changes to their menu. At least every six months they brought in new things and took old ones out, something to keep the café new and exciting…something to keep people coming back, because people got tired of the same old, same old pretty quickly.

Carol elbowed Andrea who looked at her like they'd just met.

"Mediterranean or Asian?" She asked.

Andrea stared at a second.

"Uh huh…yep," Andrea said.

Carol frowned.

"It wasn't a yes or no question," she responded. "Which of the wraps…the things that you just ate…did you like better? Mediterranean or Asian?"

"Which one had the fruit?" Andrea asked, looking at her now empty saucer.

"They both had fruit…" Carol responded.

"I'm not old enough…she's too young for this…she's just a baby," Michonne said, finishing up the tail end of the crisis that she was having while Alice sat beside her, fiddling like she always did with her phone.

"Mimi..." Andrea offered…apparently to Michonne and not to Carol.

"Nana…and she's not a baby," Alice said.

Carol growled at her friends.

"Mediterranean or Asian before I kill someone?!" She declared, more loudly than before, catching the attention of all three of them who looked at her like they were confused or like she was overreacting to something.

"What? Mediterranean…" Alice said, picking up the cup of coffee in front of her and putting her phone down for a split second. "Is this mine…whose is this? Did I order this?"

Carol shook her head.

"Jacqui made it for you…at least ten minutes ago," Carol said. "Mediterranean from Alice…Andrea?"

"Which one had the fruit?" Andrea asked.

"They both had fruit…" Carol declared. "Mediterranean had…I don't remember…the Asian had the orange flavor…"

Andrea shook her head.

"No…I didn't like the oranges," Andrea said.

"Fuck oranges," Alice declared, offering a thumbs down from where she was back at whatever it was that took place in her phone.

"The Mediterranean had the feta?" Andrea asked.

Carol nodded.

"That one…I'll eat anything if you put feta on it…" Andrea declared.

"Note to self…buy feta…" Alice said, glancing up from her phone.

"Two for Mediterranean…Michonne?" Carol asked.

Michonne was wearing the facial expression she often wore to tell them all that she was done with them. She was done with them…she was done with whatever was going on…she was done with life…she was just simply done.

And Carol knew what it was in regard to because she'd heard the whole conversation…but they had time to sort out Michonne's crisis later. Her crisis was that Anjelica, her oldest daughter…who was newly married…was also, apparently, pregnant. And now Michonne was having the "I'm too young to be a grandmother" crisis that went hand in hand with her "I hate my son in law" crisis that she'd had since it was the "I hate my daughter's boyfriend" crisis. So, clearly, this wasn't going anywhere anytime soon…but the menus were.

"Michonne?" Carol repeated.

Michonne sighed and shrugged.

"I like both of them," she said. "I guess I liked the Asian the best…"

Carol thanked her and jotted it down on her piece of paper just as Alice got up from the table and dropped a few bills out of her purse there.

"That goes to Jacqui…" Alice declared. "I have to run…my damn residents are going to kill the whole floor if I don't get back quick…"

Alice said her goodbyes and left quickly, nothing too unusual, and Michonne checked her own watch before picking up her cup and drinking from it.

"Angie's just a baby…" Michonne declared.

Carol chuckled.

"She's twenty-two…and happily married…whether or not you like him," Carol responded.

"He's an asshole…" Michonne said.

Her son in law was…Carol hated to say he was an asshole…he could be a little difficult to get along with. He was simply one of those pompous know it all types. He was the kind of young guy who's barely hit his twenties but thinks that he already knows everything there is to know about anything at all. It wouldn't matter if you were talking about the irregularities of your own menstrual cycle, he would try to correct you.

And for that, and for the fact that she had to tolerate him nearly every time she wanted to see her daughter…and now presumably if she wanted to see her grandchild…Michonne didn't care for him.

"Well, I'm too young to be a grandmother," Michonne responded. "I'm not being anyone's Grandma…or Grammy…or Gram…"

"Mimi…" Andrea offered. "Nana…"

Michonne just shook her head, making Carol chuckle.

"Why not wait until the baby's old enough to start calling you anything…and then let it decide for you?" Carol offered.

Michonne sighed.

"That could work…but Jeremy would influence the kid…and then it would end up calling me something like shit-for-brains and he'd say it was some…foreign word…for dearest grandmamma," Michonne responded.

"Sexy," Andrea said, wagging her eyebrows and drinking from her own beverage. "Can I have a cookie, Sexy? I want to go see Sexy…"

At least the thought of it got a laugh out of Michonne, and Carol couldn't help but laugh too.

"It would be great," Michonne said, "except this is my grandchild we're talking about…"

"Yeah…you got a point," Andrea ceded.

She fell quiet for a moment before rolling her head in Carol's direction.

"Speaking of sexy…did you call your mystery man?" Andrea asked.

"What mystery man?" Michonne asked, sitting up because something was finally more interesting than her grandparent woes.

Carol just shook her head, but she already knew that Andrea was busting at the seams to run her mouth about it.

"This weekend…Carol goes down to Salty's and scores a mystery man…" Andrea declared.

Carol was beginning to remember a little more about the evening, though it came in such flashes of memory that she wasn't entirely certain she remembered it over it simply being something that she made up or dreamed.

She remembered the man being attractive…rugged…and very, very strong. And she remembered the sex being good…she remembered it feeling perfect and wonderful and just the way she'd wanted it to feel…but part of her feared that it was really just the fact that she'd gone without for a while and therefore anything was bound to be great because she was getting assistance instead of simply flying solo.

"You slept with a guy this weekend?" Michonne asked. "Who was it? I know everyone in this town."

Carol shook her head and shrugged.

"I don't know…honestly," Carol admitted with a shy smile. "I don't know that I ever caught his name…"

Michonne raised her eyebrows at her, her lips curling into a smile.

"But you slept with him?" She asked.

Carol nodded her head, feeling her cheeks burn red. She glanced around, checking the lunchtime crowd to make sure that they weren't being overheard by anyone, but everyone around them was focused on their food and their own conversations.

"Well, what did he look like?" Michonne asked.

Carol shrugged again.

"I don't remember…not exactly," she responded. When Michonne made something of a disapproving face at her she laughed. "It was dark!" She protested.

"She's remembering more than she did that morning…she was rough until at least two…then the hangover started to fade a little," Andrea said.

"I drank way too much," Carol admitted. "But he was handsome…rugged…I don't know. It doesn't matter…it was nice, even if it was pretty stupid of me."

Michonne sat back and sucked in a breath.

"I don't know…I wouldn't say stupid," Michonne said. "There are some days…if I wasn't a married woman? It might be nice to play around some...you got his number?"

Andrea grinned.

"He left it," she said, looking so satisfied that Carol thought to offer the number to her for the time being.

Carol shook her head.

"I don't know…I mean…it was just a one night stand," Carol said. "He probably doesn't even remember me…he probably doesn't want to talk to me…"

"He left you his number," Andrea said. "He wants to talk to you. His subconscious wants to talk to you…his little friend told him to leave the number…"

Michonne chuckled.

"I don't always agree with Andrea, but this time? I do. He left you his number…he did it for a reason, whether or not he even knows it. If it was good…and you might want to go another round, give him a call…what else have you got to do?" Michonne asked.

"I have plenty of things to do," Carol protested.

She blushed a little at the expression on both of the women's faces. She did have plenty to do…or rather she could have plenty to do if she wanted it. She was a quiet person, though…and she liked a quiet life. The only reason she didn't have tons of things going on was simply because she chose not to have them.

"Well I do…" She added. "And I'm not sure if I'll call him…"

"Call him," Michonne said. "I've gotta go…client coming in half an hour."

Michonne got up and glanced at Andrea.

"You leaving too?" Carol asked.

Andrea shook her head.

"Nope…I've got an hour before anyone's looking for me," Andrea said. "I can stay here…try some more of that wrap with the feta…and harass you until you call the mystery man and get yourself some well-deserved loving."

Carol rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything. She'd been thinking about it…and the truth was that it wasn't going to take all that much convincing to get her to make the call. The worst he could do, after all, was simply say that he wasn't interesting in meeting with her.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter.**

**I just want to say thank you for your reviews. You have no idea how much they mean to me. They really do feed the muse and keep me wanting to write, even when I'm not sure I'm in the mood to do so! I'm also very glad that you're liking this story so far! It's one that I'm very excited about because it's such a new territory for me. **

**For the time being, please keep in mind that I'm trying to get to know my characters well and get fully into their world, so I'm doing my best to paint you the picture that I see in my head, but things might not be going super smooth as of yet. **

**I hope you enjoy the chapter, and a little more character (and plot) development. Let me know what you think! **

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Carol soaked in the tub longer than she'd really been planning to, letting the water out halfway through her bath to refresh the warmth of it and add a little more of the scented oil. She sipped occasionally from the glass of wine that she kept perched on the edge of it and when she finally decided that she was ready to get out, she spent the last little bit of her bath slowly shaving and gave herself a final rinse over with the rose scented water.

She got out and dried off, slipping into the fluffy lavender robe that was one of her latest purchases and drained the tub, blowing out the candles around the edge and picking up her wine glass to escort her through her the rest of her evening.

At one time in her life, Carol had felt much differently about herself than she did now.

When she was younger, she had weighed herself religiously. She'd pinched and tugged and pulled at her own skin, frowning at ever place that was just a little too well populated with flesh than she wanted it to be.

And she'd scrutinized her breasts, frowning at them, begging them to grow…wishing they were fuller, heavier…more rounded. She'd wished her nipples were different…her areolas…every minute detail of them.

She'd strip herself naked in the bathroom before a shower or a bath and she'd hate what she saw because she saw what she had on other women and it looked so much better…it was so much more perfect…and her body refused to understand that she didn't want to hate it, but it was simply leaving her no choice.

And she'd carried those insecurities with her, like pennies in her pocket, when she'd gotten married.

Carol knew that she'd gotten married too young, or at least she knew that now…but that had been the thing to do.

Her parents had been good people, and they'd loved her very much…and she'd loved them. They'd wanted the best for her and, of course, for them that meant that she should be married…she should be a good wife…she should have children.

So she'd married Ed just out of high school good…she'd studied nursing for less than a semester when he popped the question and she'd accepted, her eyes full of stars and her heart full of happiness over all the beautiful dreams that she had…beautiful dreams that she'd been told to have…and beautiful dreams that all started with a handsome man asking her to marry him.

And in the beginning? In the beginning her marriage had been fine…or at least she'd thought that it was fine, she had relatively little to compare it to, after all.

Her parents, though they must have loved each other, weren't people who were given to ornate displays of affection…neither to her nor to one another. So she'd always read their love in the fact that they were together…her father's love came in the form that he provided for the home…and her mother's love came in the form that she cooked for, cleaned for, and cared for Carol and her father both.

So when her marriage lacked much affection beyond the somewhat obligatory sex that was quick, uncomfortable, and unsatisfying…Carol really had no idea that it should be any different. Ed got what he needed out of it, after all, and it wasn't something that it was proper for her to expect much from. She was only to expect that, giving herself over to him, he would be her happy husband and one day they would be blessed with children.

And when he showed no great affection for her, she didn't pay it much attention. He worked and he brought home a paycheck, requiring her to immediately give up her nursing classes. That was how he showed his love. And she'd accepted it, pleased with anything extra he might offer.

Even when he'd first hit her, the very first time because she'd gone over on their budget and they'd ended up owing money…five dollars at the time…to the bank, she'd accepted it. Sometimes, she knew, husbands hit their wives when their wives weren't doing what they should…and she'd been careless with the money…money that wasn't hers…money that he worked to earn and she was thankful to him for providing her with it.

And when the beatings increased as his drinking increased, she'd excused it. He was stressed and as he moved up in the company, his job became more stressful. And she was careless and imperfect as a wife, so she had to pay the price for her transgressions.

When she'd lost their first child…then he'd really beat her badly…but it had been a beating that she'd almost thanked him for. She'd almost appreciated that he would punish her for something that she knew was so terrible.

And when she'd lost the second…she'd already expected what was coming, and she hadn't so much as shied from his hands when they'd come after her.

As her marriage had droned on, her dislike of her body had grown. Ed saw in her all the imperfections that she saw. He called the out to her, and she had little to do other than agree with him because she was well aware of all the things that he found wrong with her. So much so, in fact, that she'd deserved it, she was sure, when he had started to cheat on her and had done little to keep it a secret.

She might have stayed with him too…she might have still been living the life that she had once lived…convinced it was a good life and convinced that she needed him to keep on going, if it hadn't been for a cooking class.

There had been, at the Y in town, a cooking class being offered and Carol had presented it to Ed as something she'd wanted to do for him. He'd always complained about her cooking, and she truly wanted to please him, so she'd believed that it might be the very best thing for her…something that might make him happy in their marriage since he had so little to be happy about when he had a hideous wife that he was obligated to fuck for children that she was useless enough not to be able to give him.

And in that cooking class, she'd met the first two of the Glory Gals, though at the time she had never suspected the friendship would grow into what it was now. She'd met a clumsy, stumbling blonde who was on her own…independent…but who had lacked enough guidance in her life that she still didn't know how to boil an egg without ruining it. And she'd met a young black woman, a lawyer just really getting started well, who was…so soon after being married…already filing from a divorce from her husband because he'd cheated on her and left her with two very small children…two very small children that she had to learn to cook for because she didn't want them trying to survive entirely off of microwave meals and macaroni and cheese.

And those two women, through their conversations tossed around in the back of the class over obliterated food, had convinced Carol that she didn't deserve the bruises, the black eyes, the busted lips…she didn't deserve the cigarette burns or the broken fingers…she didn't deserve any of it.

And that wasn't the way that a man was supposed to show affection…even if she'd thought it was.

Through their support, and over the course of the four months that they took the class, Carol had made up her mind that she deserved better…she deserved something more, even if she didn't know what that was.

And she'd filed for divorce from Ed. She'd accepted, maybe more readily than ever before, the beating that he'd given her…as a goodbye present, she thought of it now…and she'd had two wonderful friends to hold her hand through her short stay in the hospital afterwards…and the same two wonderful friends had helped her get her life together…helped her get on her feet…and helped her carry on when Ed left town with a younger, beautiful woman and she realized, since her father had passed and her mother's fading mind had landed her in a care facility, that she was truly alone in the world.

Except…with the love of her two friends, she wasn't alone.

And Carol had taken business classes then, at the community college. She'd had a dream of having something nice…a nice little business…with the sum of money that she got from the divorce. While there, she'd met Jacqui…another woman looking to make something of herself…and they had graduated, pooled their money, and opened together a coffee shop that had become something of a thriving business…a landmark even…in the small town.

Carol had remained single for a long time after her marriage. She'd had a lot of demons to deal with and a lot of self doubt that led her to believe that no man would want her…no man could love her…she could do better than Ed only by being without Ed…but there was no prince charming and there would be no replacement for her.

But time had taught her that many of the insecurities that she had were just that…just insecurities. Her friends…all of them…were all beautiful, funny, talented, exceptional women…and their insecurities were much the same as hers, although boxed and bagged differently.

And then she realized, not too long after she'd learned the true glory of her own sexual self by giving herself over to some of the suggestions offered by Andrea…one in the group who knew the true meaning of enjoying sex and the pleasures it could bring you…and by learning to please herself. Something she learned she could do far better than Ed had ever done…not that he'd ever really tried.

And as the time passed on, Carol began to make peace with her body because she began to know her body. She began to love her own body, and the things that she could do for herself. She began to love the way that her body felt when it knew that she loved it. She began, through her own explorations of her physical self and the constant praise from her friends for her mental abilities in running the café, her humor and wit they all declared to enjoy, and her emotional strength and availability that they claimed pulled them through just as much as they ever pulled her through, to learn to really love herself.

And she knew then that she wasn't with a man…not because no man would ever want her…but because she wasn't sure that she wanted any man.

Through the years she'd had a few suitors…gone out on a good number of dates and allowed herself to be wood from time to time. She'd allowed men into her bedroom, once in a while, but only after they'd earned it…and with the normally unspoken expectation that she would give them what they wanted…but they would please her too.

Because her body was her temple…and if it deserved the love of her friends, and if it deserved the love that she heaped upon it when she pampered it…then it deserved, at least, the gentle and thorough attentions of whatever man was allowed to see it and to experience it.

In fact, Carol could almost say that by this point in her life, all of her insecurities were behind her…all of them had been put to rest…and that she loved herself entirely, just as she was, because she her body was the only one that she would ever have and her life was the only one that she would ever live.

She could almost say that.

But sometimes…every now and again…she forgot it.

And sometimes…every now and again…old ghosts came back to haunt her.

Sometimes.

Carol sat down on the couch with her glass of wine, now refreshed and refilled, and fingered the scrap of paper that she'd taken off of the refrigerator without even really knowing why she'd done it.

But calling a rugged stranger wouldn't be the worst thing that she'd ever done…not in the least…and if nothing else, she'd like to have a good look at the man that her body, left to function on its own because apparently her brain had gone off to play in the world of complete vodka saturation, would pick out for her.

She picked up the phone, hoping that the two weeks that had passed since the drunken encounter didn't make her seem too bold for dialing the number now, and listened to the dial tone as she wondered if she'd even recognize the voice heard out from under the cloud of drunkenness she'd first experienced it under.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. Next chapter they'll be meeting! **

**So I feel like it might need to be reiterated. A lot/all of our characters are going to be OOC/somewhat OOC here. They're all being adapted to a different kind of world and a lifetime of experiences. That means that some of their traits will remain true, but some of them will have been altered by a different set of life experiences. I just wanted to remind you of that.**

**Here's the chapter. I hope you enjoy! I'll get another one out when I can…hopefully soon. Tomorrow is quite a busy day for me. **

**Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl searched around the cluttered kitchen table looking for his phone and cursing Merle for the mess even though he knew that he was just as much to blame for the disorganization as his brother was.

Merle was out...some date or something that he had. Daryl had long since stopped paying attention.

When he located the phone, sounding off and buzzing around on the table it had already gone to his voice mail by the time that he could find the button to answer it so he flicked the button to leave whoever had called the chance to leave a message if they so desired and brought up the missed call list.

The number he'd missed was one that he didn't recognize. And for a second he felt the icy coldness of worry flood his veins.

Since he'd fucked up that night, Merle hadn't let him forget it for a day. He'd harassed him more than once about the fact that the woman, whose face remained vague enough in Daryl's mind that he couldn't have provided a quality police sketch of her, would call to tell him that she was knocked up...and even though Daryl usually did a good job of ignoring his brother, it was getting to him this time because it was coupled with his own guilt of being stupid and reckless when he knew better.

So much so, in fact, that every time he'd gotten a call from someone he didn't know...usually someone calling because Tyreese had passed his number to them about a job...he'd had a small heart attack before answering.

He reminded himself, though, that this was likely nothing more than a late emergency call over a busted pipe or something...something that Ty would most likely pass to Daryl or Axel...or even Merle...because Ty had a wife and a family and preferred to skip any and all of the after hour emergencies.

Daryl hit the button to redial the number after he got the notification that whoever had called had either disconnected or finished leaving their message.

"Hello?" A woman's voice responded almost before Daryl heard the phone ring. And even though he was expecting it, it still caught him off guard for a second.

"Hello?" The voice repeated, probably unsure of if the quick beats between the phone calls had caused some kind of error.

"Uh…yeah…ya just called? This is Daryl…" Daryl spat out, coming to himself and realizing he had to say something or she'd hang up and he'd just have to call back again faking something about a poor connection.

"Daryl…this is Carol," Carol responded. "Listen, I don't know if you remember me…but we met at Salty's…about two weeks ago?"

Daryl felt his stomach drop to his feet in a way that it hadn't in a long time, but he cleared his throat. He hadn't been to Salty's in a while except for that night…he might not remember the woman's name was Carol…but he knew it was the woman.

"Yeah…I remember," Daryl said. It wasn't a total lie, after all. He did remember her…mostly…he just had no idea her name was Carol and had only bits and pieces of what she looked like recorded into his memory. He could have drawn a picture of her, it would have simply lacked most of the detail. But like he'd told Merle a thousand times…it was dark.

Carol fell silent on the other end and Daryl worried for a moment that they might have lost connection or something after all. He pulled his phone away from his ear quickly, checked to see that it was still connected, and then caught her voice.

"You left your number…" Carol said. "I didn't know if you wanted to meet? For coffee…maybe? Maybe we could talk?"

Daryl stood there a moment…he had left his number, though he'd done it on an unconscious whim or command from his brain…whatever part of his brain had been left functioning that night.

If she wanted to meet to talk, things could still turn out bad, but he'd be pretty much the asshole of the century right now if he said that he wouldn't meet her.

"Yeah…that's good…" he responded.

"OK," she responded, and he could have sworn he heard the sound of smile in her voice. "When? Tomorrow good for you?"

Was tomorrow good for him? The hell if he knew. They were working a landscape job tomorrow…some woman wanted flower beds cleared out in her yard. It was a bitch job…it was also a job that he could probably duck out on long enough to have coffee and get a good look at this woman.

"Yeah, tomorrow's good," Daryl said. "Where?"

"BellaRose?" Carol asked.

Daryl didn't want to admit that he had no idea where that was…or what that was…but he was stuck. His silence, though, must have been something of an indication to the woman.

"BellaRose…the café on Main Street? With the patio out front? We could sit outside if it's nice…" Carol offered.

Daryl nodded his head to himself. Now he knew where the hell she was talking about. He'd never been there, preferring to drink his coffee in the house in the morning or, at the very least, at the little greasy spoon diner that he and Merle frequented often. The place this woman was talking about was a little rich for his tastes…or at least he'd figured it was…probably one of those places that when you asked for coffee they asked a hell of a lot more questions than caf or decaf.

But he wasn't going to say anything about her choice of location. He'd meet her there, get a good look at her, and talk to her…and he'd spend the rest of his night praying that he wasn't about to find out that he'd seriously fucked up.

"Sure…meet'cha there…'bout one good for ya?" Daryl asked.

"One is fine," Carol said. "I'll hold a table out front if it's nice…by the window inside if it's not…"

"Fine," Daryl responded quickly. He stood there a moment longer, not knowing if he was supposed to continue a rather awkward conversation or simply hang up and hope for the best tomorrow.

"See you tomorrow," she said, her voice holding something of a melodic quality that made it sound like she was, perhaps, a lot more excited about the meeting than he was.

"Yeah…see ya," he responded. "Bye…"

He hung up the phone without ever hearing if she'd said goodbye or not and then he looked at the thing in his hand. So that he wouldn't forget, he quickly changed the information for the number to include the name "Carol" and saved it in his contact list.

At least if he got too busy at work or something he could give her a heads up.

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His name was Daryl…and she would be having coffee with him…assuming that he showed up.

There had been times, for whatever reason, that she'd been stood up here and there throughout her life. Set a date with someone that would be "just perfect" for you…usually the brother, cousin, best friend, uncle, dog walker of some patron of the café…and then he never showed for the date.

Carol had taken it hard and taken it to heart the first time or so that it happened. She'd imagined all these scenarios where the man showed up, found her sitting at a table, and then decided that he didn't want to meet her…he didn't want to get to know her because there was something he saw that he didn't like.

The first time or so, she'd taken it quite hard.

But the few times after that when it had happened, she assumed that her friends were right…she assumed that he probably hadn't wanted to be set up in the first place. He was probably content with where his life was at the time…and so he just hadn't come. She failed to add for herself the flattery that they added that, if he had come, he wouldn't have dared to walk away from her.

She was more confident than she once had been, but she wasn't fooled entirely…and she knew that she was anything but irresistible.

And of course, for everyone who didn't show up or for everyone who never called again, there was always Alice's explanation…they'd died a horrific and sudden death.

It ranged anywhere from car crash and fiery explosion to massive heart attack or brain aneurism. It was, of course, never reported by the papers, but that didn't keep it from being any less possible.

Still, Carol hoped he would come, if for nothing more than to give her the opportunity to have a quick look at him and to judge her mind's abilities to pick out men in the absence of logic and reason.

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Andrea had swung by the café, like she did on a regular basis, just to check on things.

She did hair at a salon not half a block from the café and she spent most of her free time between clients down there "checking on things," even if it meant that she walked multiple miles a day.

She excused the trips back and forth by saying that it was the only real exercise that she got, that she needed the fresh air, and that it gave her a chance to sneak a cigarette every now and again because she refused, for whatever reason, to smoke in front of the salon…apparently so as to not alienate any of her customers who didn't like smoking…but failed to remember that everyone in town had seen her either smoking at the café or on the way there.

She was holding down a chair at one of the small two person tables out front, and Carol had stopped a moment to sit with her when she'd brought her a cup of coffee.

Andrea thumped the sweetener packets she plucked out of the little tray on the table and ripped them, emptying the contents into her cup.

"I thought you didn't like that stuff?" Carol asked.

"I don't," Andrea said, stirring her coffee. "But I'm…"

She stopped and shrugged.

"I don't know…I'm trying to lose some weight? That's all…" Andrea said.

Carol frowned at her.

"You look great," Carol said. "This isn't about Shane, is it?"

Andrea looked at her, rolling her eyes slightly.

"Leave it alone, Carol. I'm just trying to lose weight…I could stand to cut sugar out if I'm drinking five thousand cups of coffee a day…" Andrea said. "Besides…this isn't about me…I want to know what happened…"

Carol had texted Andrea saying that she'd called the mystery man. She'd told her that his name was Daryl and that he was meeting her, but she hadn't given her any more information…mostly owing to the fact that the message about summed up all the information that she had.

"Nothing happened…he hasn't gotten here yet. He's meeting me at one," Carol responded.

"One? Good…one is good for me," Andrea said, nodding her head. "I don't have anyone until two fifteen…so I can stay for the first part of the date…and still make it back to the salon before Judy Riggins…you remember her?"

Carol shook her head and glanced around, making sure that there was no one that seemed to need anything. She was technically on break, but it still made her worried, sometimes, that people would expect her help when she was on break and then be bothered by seeing her sitting somewhere when they desperately needed more tea…or a biscotti…and were being left utterly unattended.

"Yeah…she's coming in…she used to be a real bitch," Andrea said. She chuckled. "Still is…really. So do you know what he looks like? Do you think you'll recognize him?"

"I don't know any more about what he looks like than I did," Carol said. "But I told him where I'd be sitting…and I don't know…he said he remembered me. I may be able to fake it…I mean I got his number first off his voice mail…"

Andrea laughed.

"What were you going to do about that, anyway?" Andrea asked. "If he hadn't offered his name?"

Carol laughed.

"I was going to call him D and hope it was a nickname…or he could think I'm just super cool and call everyone by their first initial…" Carol admitted with a shrug.

She fell quiet for a minute and then furrowed her brow when she realized Andrea was probably serious about staying there until he came.

"You can't stay…you know that, right?" Carol said.

"Oh…I'm staying," Andrea declared. "Believe me…I'm staying…"

Carol frowned.

"I don't even know him," she said.

Andrea smiled.

"Relax…I'm going to stay a table or so away. Just close enough to be able to kind of keep an eye on things. Besides, I'm really doing this for you," Andrea said.

Carol cocked an eyebrow at her.

"For me? How do you figure that one?" Carol asked.

Andrea smiled.

"I'm saving you the effort of having to repeat it all for me later," Andrea said, picking up her coffee cup and drinking from it.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Well…here we go, the next little chapter. I'll try to get something else out soon.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Carol saw the man when he walked up the sidewalk and entered into the little part of the café, the outside patio, that was fenced off with the knee high cast iron fencing.

As soon as she saw him, her memory remembered him…not that the details were clear in her mind or that she might have dared to say that she could pick out any of his features from a line up…but her mind immediately saw him as familiar, and there was an odd feeling in her body that he was familiar as well.

She'd only sat, moments before, to await his arrival, and she stood up, stepping toward him and around the table she'd chosen…her favorite in the patio area…to catch his attention. She glanced quickly at Andrea, a few tables back, who was pretending to read a magazine that she had absolutely no interest in and was nursing her second cup of coffee.

When Daryl saw Carol, he walked straight toward her, one of his hands in his jeans pocket, the other he wiped on his pants before offering it to her, so she smiled and took it to shake…an odd gesture when her memory offered her snippets of what his hands had done to her before…and she let her eyes take him in.

He was…dirty…honestly. He looked like he probably worked some kind of outside job…one of those jobs where men didn't come home looking pressed and stressed from the office. It had to be one of those jobs where they came home dirty and tired.

He was obviously the kind of man who might frequent Salty's far more often than she would have.

"Daryl," he said, a crooked smile spreading across his lips.

He was handsome. He had a short beard, maybe simply the result of skipping shaving a few days, that was pretty heavily greying…especially in comparison to his hair which showed evidence of his age, but less than his facial hair. And he had very blue eyes surrounded by crow's feet that made Carol at least somewhat happy that she hadn't picked out and corrupted a college boy or something of the like in her drunken stupor…something that might have left her feeling more embarrassed and a good deal like Mrs. Robinson.

"Carol," she offered.

When Daryl pulled his hand away, he looked at it.

"Uh…sorry…I just took off work an' I ain't had time ta…clean up…ya gotta bathroom?" He asked.

Carol smiled and nodded.

"Just inside, straight to the back…would you like me to get you something? I'm having coffee…" she offered.

He nodded his head and scratched at his beard.

"Yeah…coffee's good…just…just regular coffee," he said, looking around.

"OK…do you like pie?" Carol asked.

He looked at her like he didn't like the question and then his face faded to being expressionless.

"Yeah…whatever…pie's good," he said.

Carol offered another smile and he disappeared, taking quick strides inside. Carol cast another glance at Andrea, reclining in her chair and grinning, before she went inside to get their coffee and their pie.

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Daryl washed his hands and his arms up to his elbows. He'd been working with Merle and Axel trying to get flower beds put in and it had turned out being more of a chore than they thought it would because the woman who had contracted them for the job had failed to mention, when she described what needed to be done to Tyreese, that the piece of ground they had to work with was damn near grown up enough that Daryl expected to find some kind of damn wonderland back there while they were working.

He rinsed his face too, hoping to at least take off a little extra helping of dirt, and then he used a bunch of the paper towels in the bathroom basket to dry up.

Carol had not been what he was expecting…not at all. He'd thought he remembered her clearly enough…he'd thought that he'd gone piecing things back together enough to have a pretty good idea of what he'd gotten himself into…but he hadn't.

She wasn't blonde…not at all. Her hair was grey…almost white in most places…and he'd remembered that it was cut in something of a pixie cut…but he hadn't realized that the light color in the dim atmosphere had been grey.

And she was attractive, there was no denying that, but Daryl was simply thrown off by her hair and by the fact that she was, frankly, just not what he'd been making up for himself in his mind.

He was also thrown off by the atmosphere of the place. He was in a bathroom and the bathroom looked nicer than the dining rooms of most of the establishments that he frequented.

And if he had to be honest with himself…if he had to be truly honest…she was a lot older than the women that he usually went out with. The women that he usually went out with didn't have gray hair…or they didn't have too much of it.

Because, though he wasn't trying to lure in jailbait like his brother was, Daryl had a pretty strict policy that he liked to keep his women in their thirties at the oldest…Merle had taught him that…half your age was the youngest you could go without getting looked at sideways, and never go over half plus ten if it could be avoided.

And yet…he'd done just that…and he didn't remember hating the night…but then again, he'd also thought she was blonde and much younger than she obviously was…so he couldn't say that his memory of the night was very reliable.

After Daryl had hid out in the bathroom, thinking about things, until he figured she might grow worried, he decided to suck it up and go back out there. He would be a good sport…drink some coffee…eat some pie…make sure he hadn't fucked up and left her any kind of souvenirs to remember him by...and then…

But that's where he got stuck…and then what?

Was he going to bail on her because she wasn't 35? After all the shit he'd given Merle through the years?

Since he couldn't answer that question for himself, and since he figured she might not even care for him once they started talking and it would be a moot point, he stepped out of the bathroom and made his way back to the patio.

She was sitting at the table, her head resting on her hand and her elbow propped on the table, staring straight ahead of her in thought.

But she smiled again as Daryl sat down.

"I hope I wasn't too bold…calling you out of the blue," Carol said.

Daryl cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Nah…" He responded. "I…uh…thought'cha might call…"

Carol pushed the coffee cup and plate with a slice of pie on it toward him and Daryl thanked her, picking up the fork and eating some of the pie. She watched him as he did and it almost made him feel self-conscious with the way she had her eyes locked on him…her very, very blue eyes.

"You…ya ain't eatin' none?" Daryl asked.

Carol shook her head.

"No…I didn't want any, but you enjoy it," Carol said. "On the house…my treat…"

Daryl nodded his head in the way of thanks and she fell silent. He wasn't sure, at this point, if it was that she didn't have anything to say to him or if it was simply that she didn't know how to get the conversation going…not that he was any great weaver of conversations himself.

"I was worried," he said after a minute, "that'cha might be callin' ta say…well…that'cha run into the way a' trouble from…"

Daryl paused and cleared his throat.

"From what happened," he finished, stuffing another bite of pie into his mouth as an excuse not to say more.

Carol raised an eyebrow at him and drank some of her coffee.

"Trouble?" She asked.

Daryl didn't feel like beating around the bush at the moment. He swallowed the pie that he was eating.

"Ya ain't knocked up, is ya?" He asked.

He hadn't expected Carol to laugh like she did, but she let out a pretty good laugh before dramatically shaking her head at him.

"No…that's not a problem," she said. "Not…a problem at all."

Daryl felt relieved.

In his mind he still had the idea that somewhere he was going to end up with some magical woman that was going to turn his world upside down. He was only forty five, after all, and it could happen…it happened to a lot of men older than that.

And he figured they'd have a nice family…two kids, a dog maybe…all the shit he'd been told to expect out of life that just hadn't come his way yet.

But he hadn't exactly wanted either of his two kids to come from the oh so romantic setting of a sloppy drunk night down at Salty's where he had to learn the kid's mama's name two weeks later from a random ass phone call.

That just wasn't the shit that hallmark cards were made of.

When he hadn't spoken for a moment, it must have gotten to her like the earlier silence had gotten to him because she drank from her coffee cup and leaned forward a little, perching her elbows on the table and shaking her head gently at him.

"I just wanted you to know that…what happened…I don't usually do things like that," Carol said. "I really don't…"

Daryl nodded his head knowingly and scraped the crumbs up off his pie plate, sucking the fork clean before he rested it on the plate again…more for something to do than for any genuine interest in the pie.

"Yeah…I don't do shit like that neither," he admitted.

After a moment, something struck him and he couldn't help but chuckle to himself. The chuckle caught her attention and she raised her eyebrows at him in question. He shook his head slightly, realizing he was going to have to explain.

"Hell…I don't reckon too many people that do that kinda thing are gonna come right out an' say they do," Daryl said. "How many people ya know gonna say they ended up gettin' drunk down at a bar…did…ya know with someone they ain't knowed from Adam…an' then gon' say they do that kinda thing all the time?"

Carol shrugged slightly and she chuckled lightly.

"I might know some people…" she said. "At least people who do that kind of thing a lot more than I do. When I said I don't usually do it…I really meant it. I'd own up to it if it were common."

Daryl felt bad then because he suddenly felt like she'd misinterpreted something that simply struck him as funny as some kind of accusation about how she spent her weekends, and that wasn't the case at all. Looking at her now, he couldn't even believe a woman like her had been that drunk down at Salty's…he couldn't believe she'd even done it once…so he certainly didn't think that it was like some kind of alternate ego for her.

He frowned and shook his head.

"I didn't mean nothin' by that," he admitted. "I know some people would do that a good bit…hell, my brother's one of 'em…or at least he'd end up knowin' damn near anybody in town that was…an' I weren't tryin' ta say ya were. Was just tryin' ta say that a good damn many people that did wouldn't even say they did…"

Carol nodded her head and offered him a small smile.

"It's OK, I didn't think you were accusing me," she said. "Besides…your only knowledge of me doesn't exactly paint me in the best light."

Daryl frowned again.

"Hell…reckon ya weren't alone, right?" He said.

When she didn't respond with words and instead only responded with a gesture of her head, Daryl started to feel a little uncomfortable. He started to feel a little like he didn't know why he was there…or what exactly it was that they were talking about. He'd spent so much time worrying that he was going to find out that she was going to have a kid and he was going to have to deal with whatever aftermath came from that, that he hadn't exactly spent too much time to coming up with other topics of conversation.

"D'ja have anythin' specific ya wanted ta talk about?" He asked.

Carol shook her head, looking a little taken aback.

"No…not really," she said. "I just thought you might like to meet…that you might like to have coffee…"

She left the words hanging in the air and Daryl swallowed them down.

This was the point where he was supposed to make some decision and he knew that well. She was leaving this shit open to him.

He could either come up with something to talk about now and prolong this meeting, or he could end this meeting and invite her to something else…he could ask her out. He could ask if she wanted to go to dinner…if she wanted to see a movie…if she wanted to do something else that she might find at least mildly interesting.

And that would put them in the odd realm of going on a date…a date…not just meeting for coffee. And from there, he'd have to decide what happened…was there a second date? Since they'd already slept together…would they do it again?

If he asked her right now to go on a date with him, it would lead to figuring out the relationship from there.

Or he had the option to thank her for meeting him…he had the option to bow out gracefully. He could decide if he'd say he'd call her and then later never do it, or he could simply leave it at that and never hint that they'd see each other again.

The thing was, at this point, it was on the table for him to decide. She'd been the one to make this call…and she'd been the one to ask him to come and meet her here for coffee and pie that she hadn't eaten…but the next step was his choice.

And he wasn't sure where he wanted to go.

Daryl cleared his throat and took his phone out of his pocket, checking the time like he had somewhere to be even though Axel and Merle had likely not even missed him while they were wading through the kudzu jungle.

"Well…I'm glad ya called me…" Daryl offered.

Carol smiled at him.

"I'm glad that you came," she offered.

And she was still looking at him with expectation on her face. She was looking at him to see which card he threw out next.

"Listen…I just…" Daryl stopped.

He had never really felt conflicted before about what to do in a situation like this…and that was partly owing to the fact that he'd never been in a situation like this before.

The few times he'd gotten so blitzed that he didn't even remember the women he was with, he'd just never heard from them again. Any other time that he'd been with a woman it had been because he'd already picked her out…he'd already decided there was something about her he liked, even if it was just the way her shirt hugged her breasts…this was a first for him.

But there was also something about Carol that made him not want to simply get up from the table and walk away, leaving it clear that he wasn't going to see her again at all.

"I just got out a relationship," Daryl said. "That's…really why the hell I was at Salty's that night."

He shrugged.

"I just got outta it an' I was goin' there ta…" He stopped and chuckled, scratching at his beard. "I was goin' there ta forget about it, ya know?"

Carol somewhat smiled and nodded her head.

"I know…I understand," she offered. "But…it was a nice night…I just wanted to thank you for it…"

Daryl swallowed and nodded his head at her.

"Yeah…thanks…ta you too…" he offered, feeling odd saying the words.

Thank you for the one night stand that I hardly remember. Thank you for letting me relieve a little stress. Thank you for serving to fill a spot I needed filled while I was pissed the hell off about yet another woman turning out to be a total bitch. Thanks for all that.

"Hey…well…I gotta get back ta work, but…I guess I'ma see ya around?" Daryl said.

Carol looked a little surprised, but it quickly faded into a smile.

"Sure…I'll see you around. Stop back by if you're ever in the mood for coffee…or pie…I own this place with Jacqui…so I'm almost always here," Carol offered.

Daryl looked around.

"Nice place…good pie," he offered. "Thanks. An' I got'cha number…"

Carol nodded her head.

"And I've got yours…but I'll see you around," she said.

Daryl nodded at her again and got up and she stood too. He didn't know if he was supposed to do something as a way of closing the whole thing out, so he extended his hand and she smiled once more, taking it and shaking it a little awkwardly…but then he thought the whole handshake was awkward so he couldn't blame her for that.

He turned then, without saying anything else because he had no idea what to say at the moment, and walked back out the way he'd come in…wondering if he'd just made an ass of himself…wondering if he would see her around or if he'd call her…wondering if that's even something he wanted to happen or if he would just be grasping at straws because he was still caught up in all the bullshit feelings that Janice's decision to fuck around on him had caused.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Hi there! So it's been an awesomely crazy day for me! I met Melissa McBride and she's amazing! It was so wonderful! **

**I also wrote you this chapter! Which is wonderful too, right? **

**So please forgive me if I missed something while editing…my mind is all over the place after my earlier excitement. **

**Also, please note that there's an AN at the end of this chapter which is particularly important for people who haven't read my fics before. If you've read them, you know me already…but you're welcome to read it anyway.**

**Anyway, here's the chapter. I'll try to get something else out to you tomorrow. I'm far too drained today from everything! Let me know what you think! **

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When Daryl left, Carol didn't even pretend that she was going straight back to work. She went directly to Andrea's table and sat down, already knowing that her friend would have plenty to say.

Andrea was writing on a napkin with a ballpoint pen when Carol sat down and she was smiling with the smirk that she usually wore whenever anyone started to talk about anything sexual…and therefore interesting.

"Go ahead," Carol said with something of a sigh.

Andrea glanced up at her and moved the pen to her mouth to chew at it a second.

"Go ahead and what?" She asked. "Tell you that he's nice to look at?"

"What are you writing?" Carol asked, reaching for the napkin that Andrea pulled out of her grasp before she could catch it in her fingers.

"His name is Daryl," Andrea said. "He obviously works some kind of blue collar job…but he wasn't wearing anything that told us where he worked…my sources are working on that…"

Carol chuckled.

"Your sources?" She asked.

"Michonne's coming…late lunch," Andrea said. "I texted her and told her to see if she could find him…follow him to his car. Might be a company car or something…"

Carol frowned.

"So Michonne is out there, somewhere, on a wild goose chase?" Carol asked.

Andrea shrugged.

"Not too wild…I texted her a photo. Oh…and she wants one of those Chinese wrap thingies…" Andrea said.

Carol sighed and shook her head.

"We didn't put them on the menu," Carol said.

"Whoops," Andrea responded, looking at her phone. "Well…I tried…she can have something else when she gets here…and I've got to go like…now…but anyway…we know his brother is someone who might frequent Salty's regularly…how interested are you in him?"

"Not interested enough to stalk him," Carol said quickly.

Andrea got up, making ready to leave so that she could…very likely…sprint back to the salon and get there before her client got antsy.

"Stalk is a strong word…I prefer intense personal investigation," Andrea said with something of a snarky tone to her voice.

"Andrea…" Carol warned.

But Andrea didn't stay for the rest of it. She simply smiled and dismissed herself quickly, dropping her pen and the scribbled on napkin into her purse as she scurried off.

Carol shook her head to herself and collected up the money that her friend had left on the table, thinking over the conversation that she'd had with the mystery man who wasn't entirely a mystery anymore.

She wasn't sure what to think of him…and she wasn't sure what he'd thought of her. She'd done her best to try to leave it open…to try to leave him a way to get his foot in the door if he was interested in seeing her again, but he hadn't taken it. And she had only to assume that he wasn't really interested…he'd come out of relationship, he'd gone there to forget, and she'd offered him that. He wasn't interested in her. He was only interested in what she'd done for him…and she couldn't really fault him for that. It wasn't like she was towing the moral line that night.

Carol pushed it out of her mind as much as she could at the moment and went back to work to give Jacqui a break, catching a quick glance at Michonne as she came into the place, playing on her phone, and most likely taking part in whatever game it was that Andrea was playing at.

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"What's the oldest damn woman ya ever slept with?" Daryl asked Merle while Merle was grilling steaks in their back yard and Daryl was drinking a beer on his perch on the porch step.

Merle glanced at him quickly and turned his attention back to the steaks.

"Hell…ever? Don't know…reckon fifty maybe," Merle said. "Why? How damn old was ya lil' woman?"

Merle chuckled with the evil ass laugh that he got whenever he thought he was about to have something really good on Daryl…something that he could drag out and dust off regularly.

"Fuck…don't know…was totally grey headed," Daryl said.

Merle chuckled again, but it was a different kind of chuckle.

"Hell…that don't mean shit 'cept she don't use that hair colorin' shit," Merle said. "I'd be damn near white headed I let the shit grow out…an' you ten years younger'n me…but'cha ain't 'xactly lackin' in grey hair…Fuckin' Axel's got less grey'n you do an' he's ya damn age an' Ty's got two good years on ya an' don't have a bit…what'd she look like?"

Daryl shrugged and drank out of his beer.

"She was alright…" Daryl said, dismissing it for the moment.

Merle chuckled.

"Alright…how, lil' brother? Nice damn ass? Nice tits? What?" Merle asked.

Daryl sighed and shifted, changing his position.

She was attractive. She had pretty eyes and when she smiled it had been nice. She'd been built well, from what he saw, and it looked like all the right parts were in all the right places.

Still…she wasn't what he was used to…and she wasn't what he'd set for himself as a "goal".

But it was plaguing him a little that he had her number…that she'd set up the possibility of meeting again…and that he hadn't taken her up on it.

He was wondering if it made him a dick…or if it made him a dumbass. And he'd come, perhaps, seeking some kind of validation from Merle, but he didn't want to explain to him that he was thinking he might be making a mistake if he didn't at least give it a go…but that he also didn't want to give it a go and then have to hear about it all the damn time.

"She looked good," Daryl said. "She looked good…but she ain't looked like Janice."

Merle chuckled.

"Hand me that damn plate," he said.

Daryl moved to hand Merle the plate he'd requested for the meat and Merle took it, putting the steaks on it quickly. He'd made four of them…dinner tonight, dinner tomorrow…or steak and eggs for breakfast if that's how the hell the wind blew.

"Would figure ya ass'd be lookin' for someone ain't remind ya none a' Janice," Merle said. "She didn't work out too damn good for ya…"

Daryl grunted.

No…no she hadn't worked out too damn good for him at all. And that was another thing that made him apprehensive about even thinking of calling her. He was feeling, perhaps jaded was the word or perhaps not, at least put off after the whole fiasco.

It was a blow to the ego to date someone, start thinking that shit might end up going your way if you're bound ass and determined, this time, to make it into something huge, and then find out the bitch has up and run around on your ass…it was a damn hard blow to the ego.

But then he thought about the woman again, Carol.

And even though he'd never really thought about it before, he usually just moved on from a woman he wasn't interested in entirely without really caring that much about it, he thought about it now…

It might be a damn hard blow to the ego to set yourself up for someone to call you…to put it out there that, basically, they could ask you out if they wanted…and then just have them not call you.

Daryl tried not to put himself in that situation. He always tried to have the upper hand. He tried to be the one getting the number, not giving it…

But for whatever reason, he'd left his number with her after a drunken night.

"Yeah…" Daryl said. "You right…I ain't lookin' for another damn Janice. Ya reckon I oughta give this woman a call?"

Merle started up the porch steps, stepping around his brother, to take the meat inside and Daryl got up, following after him. Merle put the plate on the counter and started doling out the food that they'd be eating, either ignoring Daryl's question entirely or putting it off until he had food…which was his primary concern at the moment.

And after they'd sat down to eat, Daryl realized that was what his brother was doing, because he spoke again as he chewed the piece of steak in his mouth.

"Hell…ya wanna call her, call her. Worst damn thing happens is ya go out with her damn ass…realize ya fuckin' hate her…an' ya move the fuck on…what the hell ya got ta lose?" Merle asked.

Daryl bobbed his head at his brother as he worked on fixing the now cooled down potatoes they'd baked earlier to suit his tastes.

"Ya gon' give my ass shit about it? 'Cause I'm too damn…I don't know…tired…over this Janice shit ta deal with ya ass," Daryl said.

Merle looked at him like he was insane. He looked at him with the same look that you would give someone accusing a saint of committing some kind of heinous crime. He looked at him like he would never give him hell when that was what Merle fed on and thrived from most of the time.

"I ain't gon' fuck with ya…hell…ya got a taste for it, get'cha damn fill," Merle muttered.

He paused a moment and then pointed his now empty fork at Daryl while he chewed his steak.

"Either ya get on hittin' that shit or ya take ya ass down ta Salty's an' find ya somethin' worth nosin' around in 'cause ya 'bout ta drive my fuckin' ass crazy mopin' 'round about that bitch…I never liked Janice's ass any damn way…" Merle said.

Daryl chuckled.

"Weren't nothin' wrong with her 'til she fucked around," Daryl said. "An' she ain't done it ta you…" Daryl responded.

"She done it ta you, she done it ta me…" Merle replied. "I take that shit personal like."

He paused again and Daryl chewed through a few bites of his food in the silence that hung between them.

"Hell…ya liked it…give her a call…" Merle muttered again.

Daryl nodded his head, not responding verbally, but feeling a little different about the situation knowing that Merle was on his side, whether it was genuine or simply a genuine interest in getting someone to get him over Janice.

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Carol sat on the couch with her feet on the coffee table, painting her toe nails.

Apparently Andrea had learned a little something surprising when she got to talking to Michonne about the mystery man.

She'd found him easily enough by his picture, and according to Michonne, he looked familiar, but she couldn't exactly put her finger on things.

However, once she'd followed him almost to his vehicle and he'd noticed her, or rather he'd noticed someone who was walking near her on the sidewalk and had turned, catching her out of the corner of his eye, he'd recognized her.

And when he'd greeted her, and when she'd pretended that she was on some kind of lunch errand, realization flooding to her, she knew exactly who he was and why he looked familiar.

He worked for her husband.

Unfortunately, though, until Michonne managed to pick Tyreese's brain for more information on Daryl, Carol's little detective friends were at a halt.

And she didn't really know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. If she'd been interested in him…or rather, if she'd felt like he was interested in her…she might have wanted to know all there was to know about him.

After all, it was nice to be armed with information if you were considering being in some kind of relationship with someone.

But Carol wasn't sure that he was interested in her at all…and that made her not interested in him.

She wasn't desperate by any means and she wasn't going to go chasing after some man that didn't want to be with her. She'd been there and she'd done that, at least in some form, and she never again wanted to put herself in the position of being with a man who didn't want to be with her.

Life was too short for that.

Still, she'd let her friends have their fun…so long as they didn't expect her to play along, and other than that she would simply wait to see what he did…see how it was that he chose to play now that the ball was in his court.

But she wasn't going to beg for his affections.

When her phone rang, Carol took her time screwing the lid back on her nail polish and searching out the phone that had dropped between the couch cushions. She expected Andrea calling with more information…or maybe Alice calling because she hadn't seen her that day.

She hadn't expected, at all, that it would be Daryl…almost like he'd known that she was thinking about him while doing her nails…that was calling her that evening.

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**AN: I needed to put this in here for those of you who haven't read my work before and are just joining me. This will clear some things up for you and help you decide if you want to continue this story. **

**1) My stories tend to be quite long. That means there's often a lot of character development…a lot. Especially in a case like this where I'm really working with entirely new versions of our old favorites. There will be a lot that has to be laid out here and there.**

**2) Other characters besides our main couple are important. I write about them. They get their own chapters, their own perspectives, their own lives. That's just what I do…and I also like giving you the insight into the lives of the people who are big parts of the lives of the main couple.**

**3)I don't write a lot of smut. There's smut, yes, but not tons and tons and tons…after a while, I think you've got the point of what happens in the bedroom and I trust you to be creative for yourself. If that's what you're looking for, there are lots of lovely writers who write lots of smut for you to enjoy. If that's what you're looking for, my stories won't hold your interest.**

**I think that's about it…let me know if I've forgotten something. I just wanted to give you a heads up if you're new to my writing and not aware of how I work. I don't want you to be bored or disappointed. **

**Have a great day and let me know what you think of the chapter! I'll try to get something up tomorrow maybe! **


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. I'll warn you that it's another little bit of a cliffhanger…and I know you hate those…but it's where I wanted to end this one. I'll try to get you something else out soon.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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"Hello?" Carol responded when she answered the phone, attempting to feign that she didn't know who was on the other end.

There was silence for a moment, leading her to believe that maybe his phone got bad reception…there had been silence before.

"Hello?" She repeated.

"Yeah…hey," Daryl responded. "Uh…s'it too late ta call?"

Carol looked at the clock. It was barely seven…she couldn't really figure out by whose standards it would be too late to call…to show up uninvited on your doorstep, maybe…depending on your relationship…but to call?

"No…it isn't too late," she responded, shaking her head as she spoke. Maybe he was looking for something to say. He'd been out with her that night at Salty's…he should know she probably wasn't thinking that seven was ridiculously late.

"Uh…was wonderin' if ya was goin' out tonight…if ya wanted ta…I don't know…meet for drinks? Somethin'?" Daryl asked.

Carol considered the question and the silence must have been something he felt like he should fill because he immediately started speaking again before she could even consider the offer.

"I shouldn'ta left so damn quick today," Daryl said. "Sorry 'bout that…I shoulda…I shoulda said I'd call or asked ya then if ya wanted ta get drinks…"

"No…no, it's fine," Carol responded.

She had thought that he wasn't interested at all. She'd worked herself up to believing, over the course of the day, that maybe what he'd said about the relationship was true…or maybe it was just her. She was good at that…no matter how much she fought against the ingrained instinct…even if she went out on a few dates with a man and determined that she really didn't like him, for whatever reason, she could always work it into a way that she'd somehow been to blame for the problem, whether it was that her standards were too high these days or simply that there was something about her that had turned the man into something that she didn't like once she'd gotten to know him a little better.

Her friends fought against it like soldiers…and she fought against it as much as she could…but when things got quiet, it would rear its head.

Now, though, it seemed that he must be interested. He didn't have to call. He could have left it at what it was, which was what she had been expecting. So there must be something that had made him dial the number…and her curiosity was piqued.

"I'm not going out," she said. "When I said that I don't usually do that kind of thing…I wasn't really just talking about what happened between us…I meant that I really don't go out very often either…"

She felt awkward explaining it, but she was very much a home body. It wasn't that she was antisocial or that she hated people…she wasn't the troll who lived under the bridge and ate small children and such…it was simply that she preferred her home…the homes of her friends…the café. She preferred her spaces because they were places where she felt comfortable.

And in those places she didn't really feel that odd being "alone"…but when you went out, you put yourself in a whole new world.

When you went to dinner alone, even if you just wanted to be alone, people looked at you like they pitied you. It made the experience uncomfortable…even if you weren't uncomfortable with the premise beforehand. When you went out to a bar alone, you were automatically on the menu…and that much was obvious…which made it uncomfortable and even a little discouraging when no one talked to you…no one wanted to pick you off the menu…even if you didn't exactly make yourself look warm and open to their advances.

In short, she simply preferred the quiet comfort of the places where she felt the most like herself. It was easier, in those spaces, to be exactly who she was and not to feel like she was being watched and like she had to work to put on some sort of play to be who it was that the audience wanted her to be.

"Yeah…OK…I mean, I don't go ta Salty's a whole lot neither…" Daryl said. She was struck by his voice. He sounded like he was floundering a little…and that made it sound even more like he was genuinely interested. "I mean…we could go somewhere else. I weren't sayin' we had ta go ta the bar if ya don't like it…could get drinks at…shit…Mahonne's or somethin'…"

Carol smiled to herself.

He was interested. He was genuinely interested.

Though she was almost a little reluctant to think that, feeling she might be jumping the gun too quickly. Still, if he'd only been semi-interested, going to Salty's with her would have provided him with company for the night in her person, but it would have also provided him the opportunity to see and be seen if he was shopping around, so to speak. Going to Mahonne's…a decently nice restaurant…for drinks with someone else would have likely made him look to be entirely off the market, at least for the evening.

"I tell you what…" Carol said, her pulse picking up a beat as her mouth was saying things that her brain wasn't entirely on board with, "I'm pretty comfortable for the night…but…if you wanted to…why don't you come by here? I have the makings of almost any drink that you might want…"

Silence.

She'd jumped the gun alright. He didn't know what to say. He was just silent on the other end of the phone or they'd lost connection…since Carol still doubted his phone to have the best reception known to man.

"Daryl?" She asked.

"Yeah…yeah…I mean…I could do that," Daryl said. "If that's what'cha wanna do…or I mean we could…"

He fell silent for another moment.

"I could do that," he said definitively after a moment. "Yeah…come over…if it ain't puttin' ya out…"

Carol chuckled.

He had no idea that by inviting him over to her place, she didn't feel put out before. In fact, she felt far better than she would meeting him anywhere. It was her space, her turf, and it always made her feel she had the upper hand…though usually she did insist to meet men out at other locations at least once or twice before they ever graced her home…but Daryl had already been there once, so what was it going to hurt?

"No, not putting me out at all. See you in what? An hour?" She asked.

"Round about," Daryl responded. "I…"

He broke off with a chuckle.

"I'm gonna need ya address…" He said, somewhat sheepishly.

Carol realized he probably wouldn't remember which house was hers…she was sure if she'd been in her position she wouldn't remember where she lived. Besides, the neighborhood that she lived in, which was a nice neighborhood in her opinion, was one of those neighborhoods where all the houses looked the same. It could be easy to be confused even if you were sober.

She gave Daryl the address and got up from the couch, walking as carefully as she could to the bedroom, so as to avoid smudging the wet paint on her toenails and dialed Andrea's number as she went.

"Yeah…" Andrea answered after a few more rings than was customary for her, her voice sounding somewhat muffled.

"Where are you?" Carol asked.

Andrea chuckled.

"You called to ask me where I am?" Andrea responded back, her voice sounding only a little clearer. "I'm in Shane's bathroom…what's up?"

"Daryl called," Carol said.

"So…so what'd he say?" Andrea responded.

"He said he wanted to go out…said he wanted to have drinks and he shouldn't have left like he did earlier," Carol said, trying to find something to wear that wouldn't look bad but also wouldn't look like she was trying too hard. She wanted to give off the feeling that she'd just been relaxing around the house, which was what she was doing, but without giving away how she actually looked when relaxing around the house.

"So…that's good? Right? Or am I missing something?" Andrea asked.

"It's good…but the bad part is that…well, I invited him over here…" Carol said, starting to regret her decision a little.

At first it had seemed like a good idea, but now she was worried that it gave off the wrong impression…and it was more than a little out of the ordinary for her.

"How is that bad? I think our definitions of bad are different…" Andrea responded.

"What if he thinks I want to sleep with him?" Carol asked, fumbling around to get dressed without disconnecting the call.

"Do you?" Andrea asked.

That was a good question…it was one that Carol didn't really feel equipped to answer at the moment.

"I don't know," Carol said. "I mean…Andrea I'm not you…"

Andrea chuckled.

"Thanks…and by the way, can we wrap this up soon? I'm all about talking you down off whatever ledge you're on…but Shane's going to think something's wrong with me if I'm the bathroom forever…and that's not sexy, OK?" Andrea responded.

"I don't know if I want to sleep with him," Carol reiterated.

"So don't decide right now," Andrea said. "So talk to him…whatever…have some drinks…find out about him…then decide. If you want to find out how much you would have liked the other night without being out of your skull…sleep with him. If you don't want to, send him on his merry way. You make the call when you're ready to make it."

Carol nodded her head to herself.

She'd make the call later. That's all there was to it. Just like any other man that she'd ever made the decision to invite to her house…she'd make the call when the time was right to make it. She didn't have to make it ahead of time…although she typically knew if she wanted to sleep with someone long before she allowed it to happen.

The thing that was muddling this up was that she'd already slept with Daryl…and on the one had that made her feel a little sheepish about the whole thing, but on the other it made her feel oddly comfortable about the thought of it all. She'd already done it…the mystery was gone…yet it was still there.

Carol groaned at her own mind.

"You're overthinking this," Andrea responded. "I can smell the smoke over the phone…go…talk to him. If you feel like it, ride his ass like a pony…if you don't…send him on back to his pasture. Seriously, Carol? I have to go…"

Carol chuckled.

"OK, alright…go…but don't let Shane be an ass to you," Carol said.

Andrea chuckled.

"If that were the case, he wouldn't be Shane…have fun…and don't think about it too much…and don't drink too much…" Andrea said. "You want to remember all the juicy details I'm going to expect tomorrow…"

Carol chuckled.

"Bye Andrea," Carol said.

"Adios!" Andrea said, just before the clicking noise of her disconnecting the phone.

Carol put the phone down and stepped into the bathroom, refreshing the little bit of make up that she hadn't washed off yet just enough so that it looked like it hadn't been rubbed off and smudged off almost entirely through the day.

She ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing it up a little and decided that she could successfully pull of the look of having been relaxing…with it just happening to be the case that she relaxed looking a little better in the dress she'd thrown on than in her sweatpants…and she made her way back through the house to wait on Daryl to show up.

She still wasn't sure what she would do…she was conflicted because her mind was telling her that one direction was the proper way to go, while parts of her body were suggesting that other directions might be much better choices. Still, she did her best to try to hush both the angel and the demon on her shoulders, promising them that she was going to at least make the angel happy first and find out about the man. She was going to get him talking about things, and this time she'd be sure to only have some wine…and not enough to erase what he had to say…and then from there she'd decide if the devil got his way and if her conscience could handle that…or if she was simply going to send him on his way.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Here we go, another chapter. This story is starting to pick up a good bit in my mind…and it's starting to run all over the place with me. It's a good and a bad thing. But it means, at least in my experiences with my own writing, that the characters are starting to take on their own lives…we'll see where they go and what they do. **

**So here goes, I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think!**

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Carol had a glass of wine in anticipation of Daryl's arrival. Enough that she had taken most of the edge off with her nerves…and had transported herself to a lighter, more relaxed space…but she wasn't feeling out of control. In fact, it was just the right amount that usually made her feel more in control…more able to handle herself in a situation and take the floor.

It was the amount that Michonne often teased her she needed even in their larger group gatherings to really relax and join the conversation instead of sitting more in the background and letting some of the more prominent personalities take the lead.

When Daryl got there, knocking at the door instead of ringing the doorbell, Carol walked over and pulled the door open, already wearing a smile on her face to reflect her feelings at the moment.

And he smiled, though his smile was a crooked one where only the one side of his face twitched up to show that he was pleased by something…whether it was her…or the situation…or what it might be, Carol wasn't sure.

"Come in," she said, moving to let him in. He came in, grunting something of a greeting and nodding his head at her. "What do you want to drink?"

He shrugged and shook his head.

"Whatever ya got's fine," he responded.

Carol thought he looked nervous…he looked as nervous as she had before the glass of wine. She smiled.

"I've got everything…pick your poison," she said, softening her voice to try to hopefully soothe him a little. He must loosen up when he drank…otherwise she couldn't imagine the man in front of her at the moment being the same man that she vaguely remembered from their ill-happened romp.

"Whiskey?" He asked.

She smiled and nodded, gesturing toward the living room area.

"Go on in the living room, I'll bring it," she offered.

He mumbled a thanks and went forward to the living room and Carol went about collecting up her supplies. Her bottle of wine and glass were already in there…she'd just take him the bottle of whiskey and the shot glass…there was no reason to pretend that she was going to ration him.

She stopped a moment, before she went in, to make sure that she felt composed…to make sure that she felt like she was moving forward the way that she wanted to move forward. She'd invited him here…she'd asked him to come. This was her house, her turf…she was in charge and he was playing by her rules.

And he was more handsome at the moment than he'd even been at the café…but that could be owing to the fact that he'd obviously bathed…or the fact that she'd had a glass of wine already.

Carol came into the living room and put the shot glass and the whiskey bottle on the edge of the coffee table nearest where Daryl was sitting a little rigidly on the couch cushion.

He chuckled and rubbed his thumb at the stubble of a beard that he wore and leaned forward, picking up the bottle and looking it before opening it and pouring himself a shot.

"Good whiskey," he commented.

Carol smiled.

"If you're going to drink it, drink the best," Carol said.

She took a seat on the love seat, where she was as close to him as the two pieces of furniture would allow them to be. He took the shot quickly and refilled the little shot glass and she picked up her now refilled wine glass, but didn't drink from it. She leaned on the arm of the love seat.

Daryl looked at her and maybe they both held the look a little too long…because he chuckled again.

"Ya tryin' ta get me drunk?" He asked, teasing in his voice. "Take advantage of me?"

If Carol hadn't immediately known from his tone that he was teasing, she might have been offended in some way…she might have felt it was an accusation, but when he took the second shot, refilled the shot glass again, and then sat back, crossing his leg and leaning more comfortably into the couch with a smile, she knew that he was only doing his best to find something to talk about…something to get a conversation going where there wasn't anything to work with before.

She just smiled and shook her head at him and he chuckled again, less nervously than before, in response.

"So tell me about yourself," Carol said, rooting comfortably into her position.

He shrugged a little.

"What's ta tell?" He asked.

Carol raised her eyebrows. Since she knew next to nothing about the man…there was probably a good deal to tell. The trick wasn't, at this point in the game, figuring out what there was to tell, it was figuring out what everyone was willing to share.

"Married?" She asked. "I'm not…"

She stopped and laughed quietly at her own question before returning to it.

"I didn't wreck any homes?" She asked.

She already knew the answer, of course. He'd already said he was getting out of a relationship…and if that was his story and he was sticking to it, then she hadn't done anything to ruin any relationship…but it at least could help to break the ice and open some kind of door to conversation.

Daryl shook his head.

"Nah…never been married," he said. "Thought about it…but…ain't never been there…you?"

They were going to play life ping pong, apparently. Back and forth. Question for question.

Carol nodded her head.

"I was married once," she said. "For a while…"

"Divorced?" Daryl asked.

Carol nodded her head and smiled.

"Divorced…but I like to think widowed…" she said.

He snickered, nodding his head.

"That good, huh?" He asked. She only responded with a slight nod. "Known some people like that in my life," he said. "Makes ya think…hell…ya don't wanna say ya want 'em dead, but'cha wouldn't give a shit if karma kicked their ass a little bit…"

Carol laughed and nodded her head.

"Like the relationship?" She asked.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"The one you're coming out of?" She asked, trying to clarify her question a little.

Daryl nodded his head.

"Yeah…like that," he said. He shook his head and seemed transported for a moment to the relationship and his face dropped from the lighter look that he'd been wearing. Carol was almost sorry she'd brought it up. She shouldn't have and she wasn't sure exactly why she'd asked him about it and forced him back there.

He cleared his throat and took the shot that was hanging in his hand, putting the shot glass on the table as if to announce that he was done drinking…or at least done for the moment.

"I was…uh…was with this woman…an' she…" he stopped, wringing his hands slightly. He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "She was fuckin' 'round on me…hell I was too damn dumb ta know that shit even…she told me she was doin' it…if she hadn't, I coulda gone on for fuckin' ever…never even knowed it."

Carol took a sip of her wine, furrowing her brow and nodding at him.

The relationship he was talking about wasn't something he'd made up…though she'd almost convinced herself a few times during the day that it might be. It was something, she could see now, that wasn't made up at all and the sting was still something very real to him, no matter how much he might be trying to cover that with the forced lightness.

"My husband…" she offered, "he cheated on me when we were married…it's hard. It can make you feel like…you're not good enough for someone…like you're not worthy of them."

Daryl nodded his head.

Carol watched him as he took another shot of the whiskey and she eyed the bottle. She wasn't sure what his tolerance level was…but he was on four shots, she thought…if she'd counted correctly. She wasn't sure how many it was going to take to get him drunk…but he might be headed there.

Still, she didn't know him well enough to cut him off…like she might have done to one of her friends if she thought they might let their drinking get out of hand when they weren't meaning to.

He must have caught her looking, though, because when he put the shot glass down, he slid it and the bottle to the middle of the table and she almost felt apologetic…she almost felt rude for having made him feel that she was rationing him.

He sat back on the couch again, running his fingers through his hair. Now he was obviously loosening up…and the shots would start to catch up to him. She only hoped they didn't overrun him when they started their catch up game.

"Janice…was the woman…" Daryl offered.

Carol relaxed a little more, growing comfortable with the conversation, wherever it might lead. She felt for him, though she wasn't sure why…maybe it was just the fact that his feelings had been hurt…maybe it was just the fact that, on some level, she could relate with him because she knew what it was like to be hurt by someone.

Or maybe it was the wine, she thought, when she took another sip, though she hadn't had enough to separate her entirely from her reality.

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As the night rolled on, Daryl couldn't believe the things that he was saying. He wasn't one to talk about his feelings. He had been brought up to keep things like that to yourself. You couldn't stop yourself from having feelings, but you could damn well keep the things to yourself.

And even though he and Merle did, occasionally, talk about the way they felt about one thing or another, they always did it with some sort of code in place…the code was a silent understanding that feelings could be mentioned and alluded to…but they were seldom discussed in any great detail.

And Daryl had always kind of liked it that way. It didn't put the pressure on him to find words that he had a hard time finding. It just let him say things in the most basic terms and walk away.

Yet here he was, spilling everything to this woman about how Janice…and not just about Janice and who she was…but about how it had made him feel that she had cheated on him. How much it had affected him that he had tried to convince himself that shit was going to work out with her…more because he just wanted it to than because there was really any reason to believe that she was some amazing thing…and then she had just up and pulled the damn proverbial rug out from under his feet.

And he would have blamed it on whiskey, but the truth was that he wasn't that drunk…he was buzzed, and that was certainly doing its part to relax him…but he wasn't drunk.

If anything, it was her that was doing it to him…and he didn't pretend to understand that either. She sat over there, not seeming bothered at all that he was vomiting all this shit at her that he never would have said about a woman she didn't even know. She sat over there smiling softly ever now and again, nodding her head, her brows furrowing when he said certain things…fingering the damn stem of her wine glass and sipping from its contents every now and again…and her mere presence there was making him keep going, even when his brain was already asking his mouth what the hell it was doing…what the hell was going on.

But his mouth had quit listening to his brain entirely. And by the time he felt like he'd exhausted every damn thing he could have ever said about Janice, the only thing he thought he had left to be thankful for was that he hadn't done some stupid ass shit like cry…and that she looked unbothered, other than her slightly furrowed brows, by his free flowing confessions of betrayal and self-doubt and disillusion.

Carol refilled her wine glass, now that she'd sucked it clean during the confession that left his mind swimming more than the whiskey and she moved, pouring another shot for him…his first in he wasn't sure how many hours, though a quick glance through her window told him that it would be pitch black outside if it weren't for the neighborhood lights and he'd talked longer than he meant to.

She handed him the shot glass, and he took it, watching her drink down half the glass of wine as though she were thirsty and it were water. She stood up without explanation and paced a little in the living room, stopping to look out the window as though there were something to see there, and then she turned around, lifting the glass in her hand to drink the rest of the contents in almost the same quick manner as before.

Carol came over to where he was, resting her wine glass on the table beside where he'd now put the empty shot glass, and then she sat down on the couch next to him.

He studied her for a moment…her eyes…the way her throat was bobbing at the moment with what seemed to be a prolonged attempt to swallow the wine.

For as old as he thought she was…as old as he'd let her hair lead him to believe she was when he'd seen her earlier, closer to him and looking at him like she was now…she didn't look old at all.

"Daryl…" Carol said. "It's late…"

He nodded his head. It was late…and he'd probably overstayed his welcome. And he was almost mortified now that he was realizing all of the things that he had said, without meaning to, as though he'd lost control of his own body. They were all things that now he could never take back.

"I should go," he said, somewhat apologetically.

Carol nodded her head slightly.

"Or…" she said, twisting her lips up a little after the word. "You could stay…if you wanted to," she offered.

She lifted her eyes toward him and caught his in a hard, full on stare for the moment. He swallowed, his pulse picking up a little as he tried to decide if he believed he'd really heard the offer…and as he tried to decide if the offer meant what he thought it meant or if she was suggesting that he could stay as in he could crash on her couch like they were college kids and she was concerned about him running over Merle's flamingo family again.

He shook his head, deciding it was probably the latter and he would be presumptuous to think it was anything else.

"Nah…I'm good ta drive," he said.

Carol nodded her head softly, her facial expression changing slightly. She reached for her wine glass, and finding it empty, she put it down looking so remorseful about it that Daryl moved and picked up the bottle, pouring some of the contents into the glass and offering it to her.

She smiled softly and thanked him with a light laugh.

She drank a swallow out of the glass and studied the contents of it like she was looking for something in the glass.

"I don't want you to misunderstand me," Carol said. She shook her head slightly. "I was asking if you wanted to stay the night…with me…I wasn't asking about how much you'd had to drink…and I just want us to be clear before you answer."

Daryl stared at her, his stomach doing an odd flop as he realized what she was asking. He couldn't believe, honestly, that she'd be asking him anything like that after he'd all but regurgitated every feeling of inadequacy he'd ever had in his life all over her…yet here she was…and she was staring at him with the expectation on her face that he would answer her.

"I'm not Janice," Carol offered, shaking her head. She drained what was left in the glass and licked her lips and Daryl watched her tongue dart out, catching up whatever droplets of wine might be on them. He swallowed at the feeling that watching her tongue brought out in his body. "I'm not Janice…and I'm not interested in being her…"

He shook his head.

"I ain't lookin' ta find the likes a' her again," he offered with a chuckle. "So I reckon I'm pretty damn glad ya ain't her…"

"All I'm asking about is if you'd like some company…if you'd like to…provide me with a little company," Carol said.

Her eyes dropped but then she brought them back to his and he could have sworn that something flashed across her face. She took a breath and he didn't see her release it, and he wondered if she was holding it…if she was holding it and waiting for him to respond.

He swallowed again.

"I'd like that…" he said. "I'd like it a whole damn lot."


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Here we go, another chapter for you all. **

**Keep in mind we have a long way to go with this story. The first part of this chapter is Caryl centric and the second part begins introducing us to some of our other characters, because…if you know me well…you know that they get their own spotlights and one thing I want to do in this story…one of my intentions from the beginning…is actually to give the other characters a chance to shine some and to showcase their particular personalities and lives in the story. **

**I hope you enjoy the chapter (although this may be one that I mean I hope it's not too badly written). Let me know what you think!**

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Daryl usually fell asleep immediately following sex. He had always felt like he was one of those stereotypical men that immediately came and then rolled over, passing out for at least an hour in the sweet aftermath of the release.

But this time, he wasn't falling asleep…his mind was racing…and Carol was already asleep, leaving him alone with his thoughts in the bed that he'd been in before, though he hardly remembered the first time, and abandoned shortly after.

And for the moment, he'd decided not to abandon it this time.

The sex that they'd had together, at least this round that he could remember clearly, had been different from sex that he'd had with a lot of women, and he was trying to put his finger on exactly why…since clearly the mechanics were the same.

And he thought that finally he might have put his finger on it.

It wasn't that Daryl was a man who expected a round of applause or a standing ovation for his performance during sex…but he did appreciate a little enthusiasm and even a little bit of confirmation that he was on the right track and what he was doing was doing something for the woman he was with.

And he'd been with quite a few women who didn't offer this in the slightest. It was almost as though they feared that he would be put off by any guidance whatsoever…it was, sometimes, like he was having sex with someone who he felt he needed to keep checking for a pulse.

Those types of women had always made Daryl think about the men he knew who talked about getting whatever you wanted out of it because it was impossible to please a woman. It was impossible to do anything for her…it was impossible to feel like you'd done anything at all worth mentioning because she wasn't going to confirm it in any way.

But being with Carol had been different.

This was a woman who hadn't exactly talked to him and commanded him verbally, but she'd made sounds…moans and soft sighs…things that said to him "right there…do that again…that's the spot" all in their own way. She'd taken control of her half of the scenario smoothly, moving her body into his, changing her own position, and even changing his to feed whatever was going on…mostly behind her eyelids as she kept her eyes closed for most of the encounter, until she'd unmistakably gotten what she wanted out of things.

And that in itself had made the experience different for him. The moans…the soft sounds…the biting of her lip and the scratching at his back and tugging at his hair. All of it had made him feel, as he'd gone along, like he was doing things right…like he was doing them well. They'd almost been like rewards and since it hadn't taken him very long to identify them, they'd become something he was striving to earn from her again.

And it had made the sex even more rewarding for him than much of what he'd had before, when he'd felt like the encounters he'd had with some women were about as satisfying as anything he could and had done for himself in the shower.

At least he did silently congratulate himself on a job well done…that couldn't be said for many women.

Now she was sleeping, though, seemingly unaware that he was awake and in her bed. The makeup she was wearing was smudged, but despite that she still looked pretty, lying there with her eyes closed…breathing softly.

And Daryl worried about staying. He worried that if he stayed, the magic might be broken…he worried that whatever it was that had him feeling, at the moment, lighter and better than he'd felt in ages might fade if he stayed and let the whiskey wear out of his system entirely…if he waited for the harsh light of the morning to shower down on both of them.

Because even if the night had been far more than he'd imagined it might be…and even if she seemed like something, in this moment, that he liked so much he might have believed he'd been looking for her…she was still so very different than anything he'd known before.

And even though people said that different could be better, Daryl had always found it a little intimidating.

He stayed in the bed a little longer, thinking things over and then he got up as quietly and carefully as he could. He found his clothes, trying to be as silent as was possible, and he cast a glance at her as he finished dressing, assuring himself that she wasn't awake…that he wasn't going to have to explain himself in the moment. He could think about it later…he could consider it further…before he had to call and explain why he'd slipped out instead of waiting for the conversation that would have to be awkward to come in the morning.

He left the house, an uneasy feeling that he couldn't right for himself, settling into the pit of his stomach. When he closed the door, locked from the inside, he knew that the decision had been made. He was out…he was gone at least for the night. That part of the deal was sealed.

And as he made his way to his truck, he chewed over whether or not he'd made the right decision in leaving…he chewed over all the implications of what it might mean if he'd chosen to stay the night…and he chewed over if he was ready, really ready to stay with anyone.

Because it was easier…it was always easier…to assume that his reservations came from the idea of staying with just anyone…and it didn't have a thing to do with her specifically.

It was a lot easier than admitting that maybe, just maybe, he was making something that felt, in his gut, like a very big mistake simply because he was as close minded as he harassed his brother about being.

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Andrea spent the rest of her time, when she got off the phone with Carol, slipping into the outfit that she'd excused herself to Shane's bathroom for in the first place.

It wasn't much. Just a black silk nightie that she'd bought…but she loved it as soon as she'd tried it on.

In fact, most of her girlfriends teased that she was as in love with her own image as anyone else might have been. They teased that she had a true streak of narcissism…one that was about as thick as a skunk stripe at the very least…running through her.

And Andrea only wished it were true. But she laughed along with her friends' jokes and their teasing…because the fact that they believed it all to be true only confirmed her acting abilities.

When she was young…very young…she'd been convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that everything bad that happened in the world was somehow indirectly caused by her existence. It had been a full on belief system for her…one fed, in one manner or another, by her parents.

And then, when she'd gotten a little older, and things had started to look up for her at all, she'd always held her breath, waiting for the crash that she knew was coming.

Perhaps those feelings had always bled into her relationships too.

It hadn't taken her long, when she was young, to learn that men responded to her. They liked being around her, no matter if her own family wasn't that fond of her, and they liked having her around them, no matter if she thought she was some kind of human bad luck charm.

Men liked blonde hair and blue eyes…they liked women that were willing to do whatever they wanted to please them. They liked women that could take anything that they could dish out…and would take it in exchange for their presence alone, not even requesting kindness.

And more than anything, men liked confidence in a woman.

And they never questioned if the confidence was real or if it was artificial, so long as it was there.

So Andrea had, early on, designed and perfected her confidence. She'd hidden behind it all the fears and insecurities…she'd hidden behind it all the feelings that she might not ever, no matter how hard she tried, be truly worth someone's real love and affection.

And she'd worked hard to paint the picture that she wasn't interested in love and affection. It wasn't anything she wanted…and she'd worked to make herself believe that it was true, because if it was true, then it would never hurt as much when she realized that she would never have those things.

Part of her confidence was that she loved herself…part of her confidence was that she believed herself to be a true goddess in human form. If other women had things to offer…things of quality and substance perhaps…to a man…she had at least her body and her beauty.

And she taught herself to love her physicality…or at least to pretend that she loved it entirely. She taught herself to hide the fact that she feared, like most people might fear snakes or heights, the passing of her own beauty into oblivion because she would feel, then, that she had nothing left to offer the world.

She wasn't as funny or as personable, perhaps, as Alice. She wasn't as smart and well-read as Michonne. She wasn't as sweet and as graceful as Carol. And she wasn't as nurturing or even as frank as Jacqui.

She didn't have the things that they had. All she had…all that there was to her, really…was her physical self and the sexual self that she'd worked years to hone and perfect.

Andrea studied herself in the black nightie and rubbed her hands over the silk a moment, enjoying the feel of it on her skin. The feeling of silk, to her, was almost orgasmic in its own right…and she enjoyed it more than any of the other fabrics that she collected to build her fantasies.

"Andrea…what the hell is takin' you so long?" Shane's voice rang out.

"I'm coming," she called back.

She took down her hair quickly and combed through the curls with her fingertips…trying to decide if it was better up or down. She knew that Shane preferred it down, even if she preferred it up, so she left it down and exited the bathroom, almost hopping on the balls of her feet as she made her way quickly to the living room where he was waiting on her.

Shane Walsh had become, for lack of a better term, something of a constant in Andrea's life.

She doubted that he felt any real affection for her…in fact, she doubted that Shane had the ability to feel any real affection for anyone. He had the attention span of a goldfish when it came to women and if she could judge how he talked about her when she wasn't around by how he talked about other women to her, he probably painted her in the worst kind of light possible.

But for all the conquests she could have boasted about in her past…things weren't quite as lively as they used to be…they weren't even as lively as she pretended they were.

And Shane was always down for a fuck…and whether or not it was particularly flattering to her, it was much more flattering than going home empty handed from Salty's.

Andrea pasted on her best award winning smile as she came into the living room and found Shane sitting on the couch, a beer in his hand.

"Well…?" She asked.

Shane looked at her, took another swallow of the beer, and she wondered how much he'd had to drink. Shane with one drink, maybe two, could lead charm that you didn't even imagine he had. Shane with much more than that under his belt could be the biggest asshole this side of Georgia. It was for that reason that they cringed to see him come in on his off nights to the bar…she'd seen him get in one too many people's faces over stupid things…and there was only a certain amount of touchability available when it came to the man since he'd been on the police force in town since he was damn near a kid.

When he tipped his head to the side, scratching his fingers through his short hair, and sucked his teeth as he swallowed the beer, humming…Andrea could already tell that he'd been drinking more before she got there than she'd realized when she'd excused herself to change into something more comfortable and answer the buzzing phone crammed in her jeans pocket.

"I'd like fuckin' ya a whole lot more if you'd lose some weight…" Shane said. "Nice outfit…but it'd look better on someone with a nicer body…"

Andrea did her best to hold the smile she had and not let it drop into a grimace. She did her best to pretend the comment didn't sting as bad as it did.

"I'd like fucking you a whole lot more if your dick was bigger," Andrea said. "But I guess we all have to deal with disappointment…"

Shane spat something at her that sounded like "fucking cunt" but she couldn't be sure. She stood there, trying to decide her next move. She didn't really feel like sleeping with him anymore…but her options were limited and she didn't want to cut him off…alienate him…when he was often times one of the only men that was available when she was looking to have one of the so-called wild nights that her friends still believed she had…the nights that she still wanted to pretend she had.

She stepped forward, ignoring the still biting sting of Shane's comment and slipped onto his lap. He jerked his head away from her as she leaned to kiss him and she caught it with her hands, almost pushing his face into her breasts, sighing as he accepted her advances and one of his hands reached around, digging roughly into her ass while the other didn't bother to put down the beer bottle.

Sometimes…fantasies are all we have…and sometimes fantasies are just that…


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter because you're all so nice to me and give me reviews…which are essentially like fanfiction money, you know? LOL**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"Pay attention to me," Andrea demanded. Carol heard it as she was walking over, bringing the last of the orders. "Do…you…think…I'm…fat?"

Alice looked at her like she'd just asked her what her opinions on the Lochness Monster or Bigfoot were.

"No…" Alice responded. "You're not fat…I'm the one that's going to be fat…I'm eating pie for breakfast…"

"No one is fat," Carol said, sitting down.

She'd needed to come in this morning, early…and she was there before anyone. She'd sent out texts to anyone who was looking for a ridiculous hour coffee and or breakfast break, and it appeared that Michonne and Jacqui were the only two who didn't have the desire to show up at the café long before it was time to open.

But Carol had woken up and she'd realized, though she wasn't sure what she expected exactly, that Daryl had left some time in the night. She thought she remembered hearing him get up, but she'd excused it in her mind as a bathroom break…and when she'd woken up for her own trip to the bathroom, she'd realized he'd actually left.

And it bothered her more than she wanted to say and it bothered her more than she would dream of letting on…and part of the reason that it bothered her so much was because she couldn't put into words why exactly it did.

"That's easy for you to say," Andrea said, her mouth full of the waffles she'd ordered, easy enough to make since that's what Carol had wanted too. "I mean…you're like…ughhh…it's not even fair. It's never been fair…if I didn't love you…I would hate you."

Carol chuckled and shook her head.

Apparently she'd needed some early morning, before the sun, consolation from her friends…but clearly she wasn't the only one.

"What happened?" Carol asked.

"Shane…" Andrea said.

Alice made a gagging sound. It was no secret how she felt about Shane Walsh and Carol could second the emotion.

Shane Walsh was an asshole of the greatest degree. Unfortunately her own record wasn't clean of the man entirely. There'd been that one time…but Carol preferred to think of it as a stark lack in judgment on her part.

With Andrea, though, he'd become something of a recurring theme. Everyone in the group knew it, and everyone talked about it, but they pretended for Andrea's sake that they hadn't recognized her pattern. It seemed important to her, for whatever reason, to keep up the façade that she was still turning men over like hotcakes…like she had when she was twenty or thirty…and that nothing at all had changed.

Certainly nothing had changed that would be dramatic enough to land her with a man like Shane on more nights of the week than she was without him.

And Carol wanted to support Andrea in whatever it was that made her happy, but she didn't believe that Shane made Andrea happy at all. In fact, they had far more evidence to the contrary. Still, no one was quite sure how to pull their friend away from this man who was, potentially, a toxic pairing for her.

"Did he call you fat?" Alice asked. "Ugly ass, goat nosed mother fucker that he is?"

Carol chuckled.

"Goat nosed? Goat nosed…Alice?" Carol asked.

Alice shrugged.

"I don't know…it was there…I used it," Alice responded.

Andrea sighed and put her fork down, wiping her mouth and swallowing the food that she was chewing.

"Yes…and he's right…I am fat," Andrea said. "And I'm sitting here at…is it even after five? I'm sitting here eating waffles with syrup and whipped cream like that's going to make my ass any smaller…"

"Fuck him…you're not fat," Alice declared. She looked at Carol and waved her hands at her, an incredulous look on her face. "She's not fat!"

Carol shook her head.

"You're not fat…and Shane is an asshole…and not a very good lay," Carol said.

Andrea laughed at that and Carol was glad to at least get a laugh out of friend.

Her therapy session…which was apparently also a therapy session for Andrea…was going just like she needed it to go. She didn't need, not really at least, to even talk about what was going on with her…she just needed to be around her friends. And making someone else feel better always seemed to make Carol feel better by default.

"Come to the dark side," Alice declared. "I'll make you waffles…in bed…and I the whipped cream will already be right there…load up as much as you want and all that we had leftover."

Andrea chuckled and looked at Carol.

"She's serious," Carol said, running her fingers through her hair and washing down the bite of food she'd just swallowed with some of her coffee.

"Why can't I be a lesbian?" Andrea asked with a chuckle, returning to the waffles that Carol knew she hadn't really abandoned.

"Lack of personal effort," Alice responded blankly.

"Shane is bad for you," Carol said, screwing her courage up for it. "He is…he's bad for you. He's bad for any woman, really. No one even pretends that he wasn't what happened to Lori and Rick…"

Andrea looked at Carol blankly.

"Lori is what happened to Lori and Rick…and she's not even…she doesn't even see Shane anymore," Andrea said. "She sees…well hell, I don't know who she sees, but it isn't Shane."

"Shane had a lot to do with it," Carol said. "The blame isn't all Lori's, you know. And he's bad for you, Andrea. You can do so much better than Shane Walsh…so much…"

Andrea sighed and shook her head, but she didn't offer any words.

After Andrea chewed through another bite of pie, she spoke again, but this time she was redirecting the conversation in an obvious effort to draw attention from herself.

"What about your mystery man? Daryl? What happened with the thing?" Andrea asked.

"What thing? There was a thing?" Alice asked. She faked a cry. "I work too damn much and I missed the thing…"

Carol chuckled at Alice and shook her head.

"You didn't miss anything, really," Carol said. She shrugged. "I invited him over…we had a few drinks…he told me this really long story, really, really long story…about this woman named Janice…"

"Janice who?" Andrea asked.

Carol shrugged and shook her head.

"He didn't give me her last name," Carol said. "But she cheated on him and he was really torn up about it…and then I asked him if he wanted to stay…"

Alice leaned up almost to the point she was going to have pie all over breasts if she wasn't careful.

"But he didn't stay? He turned you down?" She asked, her eyes going wide.

Carol groaned a little, not wanting to admit the whole truth but knowing now that the lid was off the can of worms and there was really no turning back.

"He stayed," she admitted. "Long enough, I guess…and then he left."

"Oooh…" Andrea hissed, drawing her face up. "Did he leave a note? Send a text? Anything?"

Carol frowned and shook her head, reminding herself that it didn't bother…or rather, reminding herself that she had the full intention of pretending that it didn't bother her.

"No…he probably…" she paused. The bad thing about this moment was that she was going to try to defend him and she was going to try to pretend that everything was perfectly fine and had a perfectly rational explanation to it, but she wasn't sure she believed it and she wasn't even sure what she was going to offer as that explanation. "It was probably too much…too soon," Carol said, improvising as she went along. "He was really shaken up about this Janice woman. And…you know…it doesn't matter…"

When she paused for a moment, Alice sunk back in her chair a little, a baffled expression on her face and Andrea looked at Carol like she'd just suggested that another World War wouldn't matter.

"It doesn't matter?" Andrea asked, raising her eyebrows. "You don't care that he left?"

Carol shook her head gently.

"No…I mean he didn't owe it to me to stay," Carol said, ever amazed at her ability to come up with things on the spot that she really didn't even mean…at least not entirely. "I asked him to stay and he stayed…and it was…"

She stopped again. She felt like she was losing the war with herself now that she was talking and she wasn't sure how long she could keep talking and also keep up the show that it didn't bother her at all.

Because it had bothered her.

It had bothered her because when she'd been listening to him talk…when she'd been listening to his heartbreak over what this other woman had done to him…she'd felt sorry for him. She'd felt, even though he was the only one talking, like there'd been some connection between them.

She could see the hurt in him and she could understand it because she'd been hurt before. And at that moment, he'd seemed different than so many men that she'd known because he hadn't seemed ashamed to admit that he'd been hurt. He hadn't seemed ashamed to admit that he'd put higher hopes and expectations into a relationship than it merited. He hadn't seemed ashamed to share with her the fact that he'd had someone make him feel…less than.

And it was a feeling she could immediately connect with. It was a feeling that tugged at her heart and made her feel, in the moment, like she knew him much better than she did.

And it had been that feeling that had sealed the deal with her in her mind. It had been that feeling that had made her invite him to stay.

Stay with me…because we've both been hurt. Stay with me because I think that you're not less than…and I hope that you see that I'm not less than…so stay with me.

And even though she'd questioned herself in the moment, it had felt right. So she'd done it. She'd simply taken the chance that the feeling wasn't one that she was making up, one she was imagining, one she was projecting onto him.

But he had left in the middle of the night and something had made him leave. And as much as she fought against them and as much as she forced them back with her own mental chairs and whips…the insecurities bubbled up inside of her that she had been the something that had made him leave.

Because even though she had thought, when all the feelings were churning around inside of her, that he wasn't less than…like the woman had made him feel…maybe he thought that she was.

And maybe she was.

"It was what?" Andrea asked, drawing Carol back for the moment.

Carol shrugged and shook her head.

"It was nice…and that's all it needed to be," Carol said.

"What the fuck is wrong with you heterosexuals?" Alice asked. "Some asshole calls you fat…some asshole wants you to talk to him about his poor little broken ass heart and then leaves in the middle of the night…I can't even with this shit…"

And Carol was grateful for Alice at that moment, like she often was, because although Alice's rant was indeed a rant, she knew that her friend could tell that she needed to draw the focus away from her. Alice had always been pretty good at telling whenever anyone needed the attention drawn away from them…and she was always good at stepping in at the right place and coming up with a diversion.

She distracted Andrea and bought Carol the time she needed and desired to get her feelings under control. They hadn't been processed yet. They were too fresh…and she was sure that once she sat down, went through them with the detachment that a little time would bring, and really thought about them, she wouldn't feel the same way that she felt while the wound was new and open.

"Yeah? We're the ones with problems? What about you, Al? Let's hear about your love life?" Andrea challenged, a smile crawling across her face with the newfound distraction.

Alice snickered and scraped up the rest of the pie from her plate, dramatically eating it and licking her lips slowly, leaning toward Andrea, before she spoke.

"My love life might be picking up…because I have a date…and she is…you two aside, of course…the hottest woman around…" Alice said.

Alice laughed, breaking the somewhat serious façade she'd created with her dramatic pie consumption.

"Seriously…she's pretty damn hot," Alice said. "And I have no idea why in the world she said yes…but thank goodness she did!"

"Who is it?" Andrea asked.

Carol smiled and nodded her head, sucking in a breath and already feeling better.

"Professor of Gender and Women's Studies over at the college…if it goes well, you'll meet her," Alice said.

"It's been a while," Carol offered.

And it had been a while since Alice had been in anything that might even be considered a steady relationship. She'd had a few set ups and a few blind dates here and there, but mostly she'd been married to her work for the last longest.

"Don't remind me," Alice declared. "Just don't…"


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. **

**I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think.**

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Daryl had meant to call Carol…but when he'd woken up, he'd decided to wait a bit so as to not wake her…and then he'd waited a bit because he got busy with this or that and forgot to think about what he might say when he called…and then he'd realized that he didn't know what to say and that as time went on he'd also have to offer an explanation about why he hadn't called…an explanation that he really didn't have a very good one for…and then he'd finally just figured that it was too late to call and too much time had passed.

And she hadn't called him either.

So now that a few days had passed, he was figuring the whole thing was out of his grasp. He'd let whatever it was, if it was really anything at all, slip right through his fingers.

He was good at that. He was good at letting things get the hell away from him. In fact, he was better at letting things get away than he'd ever been at holding onto them.

After he showered, washing off the grime of the day in the lukewarm water left behind after Merle's shower, Daryl got dressed in clean clothes and came into the living room where Merle was kicked back in his recliner, smoking absentmindedly and flicking the ashes into the black plastic ashtray on the arm of the chair while he worked at the same crossword puzzle he'd been fucking around with for at least two nights.

"Daryl…what's a five letter word for gives death but also suffers loss?" Merle asked.

Daryl turned back, getting himself a beer out of the refrigerator and cracking it open.

"Daryl…write that shit down in ya puzzle…Daryl," he grumbled, swallowing a quarter of the beer before coming into the room and sitting down on the couch.

Merle chuckled and sucked his teeth.

"Nah…weren't that…" Merle said. "This here words got it a d in it…but it's in the damn middle…"

Merle continued to study the puzzle book in his hand but looked over it every now and again at Daryl and even through his overall pissy mood, Daryl caught his brother's eyes as they flicked toward him time and time again.

"Fuck's ya problem, Derlina?" Merle asked finally, still not entirely tearing his focus away from his puzzle. "Ya been mopin' ya ass 'round here for damn near two days like our dog died…an' we ain't got no damn dog that I knowed nothin' about."

Daryl shook his head.

He hadn't told Merle the whole story, not really, of what had happened. He'd said that he'd slept with the woman…he'd said that he'd left in the middle of the night…but he hadn't filled in any of the details that he'd felt bad about it by the time his ass made it home, that he'd made it worse by not even calling her afterwards, and that now he was damn near driving himself crazy over the fact that he felt like he'd really fucked up something.

He'd spared himself from sharing all those glorious details with Merle.

And now when he looked back at his brother, focused once more in his silence on the puzzle, he felt even less like sharing those details.

"Got a damn w…w an' d…fuckin' piece a' shit…" Merle mumbled.

And Daryl almost wanted to scream at his brother about how damn infuriating he was. Even though he hadn't told him what the hell was his problem, it was still driving him insane in the moment that he was over there stewing over what the hell might have happened if he hadn't fucked the hell up and Merle was burying his nose in another damn puzzle…working his way through the ratty ass book he'd picked up some damn where for a buck or two…and not even aware of what the hell Daryl was suffering only a few damn feet away from his ass.

"Widow…" Merle said after a moment with a chuckle. "Widow…they talkin' 'bout a damn widow…give damn death like a spider…suffers loss 'cause she ate the fucker…widow…"

Daryl was struck by the word itself, popping up, because it just renewed his feelings for him and reminded him of what a dick he'd been. He'd talked all damn night…at least two hours if not more…about how bad Janice had fucked with his head…what a damn bitch she was…and she was only the last in a long damn line…and he'd never even asked for any kind of clarification at all on why Carol would prefer to think of herself as a widow over a divorcee.

He hadn't bothered to really ask her a single damn thing about her life. He'd just run his mouth…accepted her invitation to stay for "company", and then high tailed it out of there like his ass was on fire and he could outrun the flames.

"Ya gon' say what's ya problem or ya just gon' stew about it?" Merle asked, snatching Daryl back into the room with him. Apparently the clue had been the last of the multiple day puzzle because Merle was tucking the little book into the pocket side of the recliner.

Daryl shook his head slightly.

"Just got a lotta shit on my mind," Daryl said.

"You ain't still worked the hell up over Janice, is ya?" Merle asked, furrowing his brows.

Merle often had a hard time understanding when and if anything hit Daryl hard when it came to relationships, and that was primarily owing to the fact that he'd just never been in anything he really considered a serious a relationship. He said he wasn't interested in it…and if it was a lie, he'd done a hell of a job keeping up appearances.

Daryl shook his head.

"Not really," he said, rubbing at his temples. "Hell…maybe I'm just fuckin' over women in general."

Merle chuckled.

"Got'cha some damn young lil' boy in ya life I oughta know about?" Merle growled.

"Fuck you…" Daryl spat back.

Merle chuckled and moved, sitting up and kicking the recliner into the sitting position. He stretched and ran his fingers lazily over his head, scratching it like he was giving himself a scalp massage.

"Get'cha ass up," Merle said. "We goin' ta Salty's…I'ma see if I can't scare me up a piece…an' you look like you could use a lil' taste a' somethin' sweet too."

"Don't feel like goin' out, Merle," Daryl said when his brother got to his feet.

"Don't recall askin' ya, lil' brother," Merle said. "Get'cha ratty ass up…"

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When they first got to Salty's, the place was damn near empty. That wasn't surprising given that it was a Wednesday night and given the hour. Wednesdays could pick up, but they normally didn't pick up until a little later, giving everyone time to get off work and eat dinner or do whatever it was they were going to do before they settled into the "hopping scene" of Salty's.

Salty's was…for lack of better explanation…the old people's bar in town. There was another one, but it was mostly frequented by the university students and it was a little too loud and little too wild for the tastes of both Daryl and Merle.

Salty's had, though, a pretty wide range of people who came to it…they just happened to be people who weren't interested any longer in seeing how loud they could scream for no reason at all, how much noise there was in the world that sounded like bats screeching while being burned alive and misrepresented itself as music, or in seeing if they could stand on their heads while they funneled a gallon and a half of beer.

After a round and a half of beer, though, the place started to pick up and Daryl's mood started to raise whether he wanted it to or not, especially since he was a beer ahead of his brother and Merle wasn't letting shit get to him at all.

Axel had come in, spoken to both of them, but now he was off in a corner talking to someone that he either knew or was trying desperately to get to know, and Daryl caught the look in Merle's eye as he started glancing around, staking out what was in the room…and likely trying to figure out what he'd already had and what might be new to him.

"There's one for you, lil' brother," Merle said after a moment, cracking a peanut from the bucket on their table with his hands. "At the bar…one, two…four stools down…blonde…"

Daryl turned around, craning his neck toward the bar and spotted the blonde sitting on the stool and chewing on a straw that was in her glass…some kind of fruity shit that Salty's was known for.

"Thought'cha was lookin' for your ass," Daryl responded.

Merle chuckled.

"Lil' too damn wet behind the ears still for me," Merle said. "I ain't even wearin' my good shirt…but you the damn one needs some needs some cheerin' up…'sides…kinda got my eye on that redhead over there…one standin' up watchin' the damn game on television…"

Daryl cast a glance at the redhead in question and thought she wasn't too bad…she wasn't too bad at all. But then, probably neither was the blonde.

He got up from the table, nodded his head at Merle as a sign of good luck and received a nod in return, and made his way toward the bar, talking himself into the whole ordeal as he went.

He would just make this shit work…that's all there was to it…and he wasn't going to be some kind of damn dumb ass about the blonde if she was decent at all.

Daryl pulled up a stool and got seated next to the woman before she ever turned her head to take him in at all, not releasing for the moment the straw she held between her painted lips.

Up close she was probably thirty…maybe thirty five at the oldest. Blonde, thin, green eyed…big green eyes…and when Daryl sat down and she noticed him, she smiled at him around the straw caught up between her lips and finally released it.

"You didn't ask if you could sit there…" she said.

Daryl forced himself to chuckle, even though he wasn't in the mood to be amused by any such challenge.

"Weren't nobody sittin' here…'less you was keepin' the company of a ghost," he responded.

She shook her head, closing her lips against the smile and then smiling again, rolling her eyes up toward him.

She was closer to thirty than thirty five…and she was even younger than her face and her years suggested, Daryl decided quickly.

He could recognize the signs of a woman who was less versed in flirting than she was in depictions of how someone ought to flirt. She was trying faces that she saw happening in her head…but they weren't coming out quite like she probably thought they were.

Still, she was easy on the eyes…she was young…and Daryl was going to ride this one out if he could. Even if she just served to remind him a little of Janice…not that they'd really resembled at all…simply because they were around the same age.

"What's your name?" She asked, sighing softly…another something she put on from her arsenal of flirtation that seemed slightly out of place and time.

"Daryl," Daryl responded, drinking a swallow of his beer afterward. "Daryl Dixon…"

The woman…who Daryl was starting to think of as more of a girl at the moment…offered him another of her stressed and painted on smiles.

"Well I'm Beth," she said. "Beth Green."

Daryl smiled and nodded his head at her slightly, letting his eyes scan the room quickly enough to see that his brother was still working up to talking to his redhead.

"Nice ta meet ya," Daryl responded, taking another drink of his beer.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Like rats…like rats from a burning barn…**

**I have to say…(besides the ones of you who I know are/were just joking because that's what you do…) I'm almost ashamed at how quick some of you would run out on things or assume the absolute worst. Daryl has an introductory conversation that consists of 36 words between two people and you're already ready to run for your lives from "a story you enjoy so much"? Come now…**

**We have a long way to go with this couple…and there are all kinds of twists and turns and bumps in the road. These things happen in life and they happen in my fics…but I can guarantee you that I will (even if I hurt your feelings for a few minutes…my gosh do you want to read the most boring stories ever?) bring you safely to the other side. **

**LOL For those of you who "can continue" with a story after 36 words of exchanged dialogue…here's another chapter. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"Third wheel…that's the whole reason you brought me here," Carol protested as she got out of Alice's car at Salty's and readjusted her skirt. "Just to be your third wheel…"

"No, I brought your hot ass for back up…at least get your reasons right if you're going to accuse me of being a bitch date," Alice responded. "I don't know this woman…I mean I know of her, but I don't really know her. If we get in there and she's a total bitch or I hate my life…you've gotta rescue me!"

Carol frowned and looked around the parking lot.

Salty's was hopping for a Wednesday night. The parking lot was almost packed…and that could be difficult to pull off on the weekends sometimes.

Alice was off of work for the next three days and she'd agreed, apparently through a text conversation with the woman that she was intending on going out with on a date on Thursday night, to meet her early at the bar.

That's where Carol came in, apparently, because Alice had come to her house and almost forced her into her clothes, demanding that whether or not she wanted to stay in and watch marathon movies on television, she was going to the bar. Now she understood that apparently it was because she was supposed to be there, playing in the corner, waiting to save Alice.

"They're busy…" Carol commented, not moving from her spot.

Alice glanced around.

"Yep…now stop making that face," Alice said. "You might find someone here…and besides…you know I'd do this shit for you!"

Carol almost laughed. Alice looked like she was only a few moments away from reverting back to childhood and stomping her foot in frustration over the whole thing.

And it was true. Alice would play wingman, even going so far as to somewhat make out with a man to buy you some time with the one you liked. She'd step in the middle of you and whatever guy you weren't interested in and play your overprotective lesbian lover. She'd fill just about any role you needed her to fill when you were out looking at what there was on the market…and maybe Carol owed her one.

Carol sighed and ran her fingers through her hair that retained, thankfully, most of the styling she'd done for work.

"You're right…let's go," she said.

Alice smiled triumphantly and offered Carol an arm and Carol smiled in spite of herself and slipped her arm through Alice's allowing herself to be led through the parking lot and then shown through the door while Alice held it for her.

The number of people for the night made the place seem far more crowded than usual, so Carol stuck close to Alice as they waded through the crowd and made their way to one of the tall tables near the side of the bar. They both hopped up onto the high stools and purses went on the side of the table like they were synchronized for the event.

Carol ordered one of the fruit drinks that Salty's was famous for and Alice ordered a beer, already glancing around the room.

"So what does this lovely lady look like?" Carol asked. She knew nothing about the woman beyond, clearly, the fact that she was a lesbian…and, apparently, she was a professor…but really that could leave the imagination wide open.

"Smokin' hot," Alice declared, paying close attention to her phone and presumably texting the woman in question to let her know that they were there. "Her name is Sadie Morgan…she's fucking incredible…"

Carol chuckled.

"Fucking incredible…I don't know Alice…I might need more description than that…" Carol said.

"I've only seen her twice, and both times were kind of…at a distance," Alice admitted. "I got a friend of mine to set us up…she's great to talk to…she has…or at least she had the last time I saw her, red curly hair…and I think…blue eyes…"

Alice was focused on her phone…she was barely paying Carol any attention at all…but still Carol scanned the collection of people standing around, sitting around…talking, laughing, drinking. With as much as she knew about this Sadie person, she might as well have been looking for Waldo.

Alice's phone buzzed in her hand.

"She's here…she's here…" Alice said, a little too wound up at the moment. "She's…" Alice looked around then brought her eyes back to Carol. "She says she's near the bar…near the television…she's going to wait there because there's a creeper on her ass…"

Carol glanced up toward the bar area. There were two televisions in Salty's…two large screen televisions…and there were more than enough potential creepers to keep them from spotting the woman with either of those two helpful pieces of information.

"OK…" Carol said. "Let's get our drinks…and you take the right side and I'll take the left side…if I see anyone that's smoking hot and a redhead I'll text you."

Alice grinned.

"You're awesome…I'm buying your drinks tonight…" Alice declared.

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Carol bumped and elbowed her way through the people who were up near the bar area, arguably the more crowded part of the place, careful not to get her feet stepped on her to spill her drink all over herself. She could brush the food coloring out of her teeth later if need be, but she was quite certain it wouldn't come out of her clothes and she had a particular affinity for the skirt she was wearing.

The first thing to have helped solve this problem would be to have found out what age group she was searching for this mysterious redhead in…because Salty's boasted a wide range of ages…and red was available in nearly every salon and on the shelves of any store that sold hair dye…not to mention it came in a rainbow of hues.

When Carol felt her phone buzz in her hand, though, she clicked the button and was relieved to see the text was from Alice, declaring that she'd struck gold near the other television and found Sadie…and now she was going into battle against the fire breathing creeper who wouldn't take lesbian for anything less than a challenge.

Carol chuckled at the text message and texted back to Alice that she'd probably hang at the bar area. She didn't feel like trying to traipse her way back to find a table and sit alone.

After her text was sent, Carol slipped her phone under her arm and pinched her straw with her fingertips, standing rigidly in place so that anyone around her would see that she was drinking and not moving at the moment, and took a long drink from the glass…at least the best thing about coming with Alice was that she didn't have to worry about driving home and she didn't have to worry about going off with some man again, one drink away from death.

Alice wouldn't have let her do it…even if she'd insisted she really liked the guy. Alice would let her drink with a guy and she'd let her go home with him if she really wanted to…but not if she was too drunk. The only time that Alice let that happen was if she was too drunk herself to practice decent judgment.

Once Carol had drank enough of her drink that she was less concerned with the fact that it might slosh all over her, she scanned the bar quickly to figure out where she might want to sit…where might be the best place to pass the evening until Alice buzzed her phone to either declare that she was coming over…the little rendez vous having come to a close…or that she needed help ASAP to save her from suffering any more of the company that she suddenly realized she didn't like or want.

And that was when her eyes ghosted over him. Her scanning was so quick that she passed right over him once, but then her brain told her eyes to stop and she backed them up, sliding them back to settle on him.

Daryl was there.

He was there and he was sitting at the bar, drinking beer, leaning on his elbow, and talking to someone.

Carol watched the scene for a moment.

She'd excused the fact that he'd left in the middle of the night with the thought that it was too much for him. It was too much and it was too soon after the horrible story that he'd told of this Janice woman. And she'd chewed on that…turning it over and over…until she'd finally pretty much gotten herself to believe it was true.

He was hurt over Janice and he'd found some solace with her…but it had been too much for him. And she could forgive him that because when she'd gone through her divorce and she'd been so hurt from everything that happened with Ed, it had taken her nearly two years before the thought of another man in her bed…and less likely in her life…hadn't made her stomach turn.

So she'd also excused the fact that he hadn't called…the fact that he hadn't texted…the fact that he hadn't sent a singing telegram…the fact that there'd been no indication besides the lack of a write up in the newspaper to even suggest that he'd remained alive after he'd left. She'd excused it because it would have been difficult, maybe, for him to say, after such a nice night, that he had simply realized he wasn't ready for it. He wasn't emotionally ready for anything after Janice.

But he was sitting at the bar, and he was talking to a woman now.

And the woman was a young woman…your typical big eyed blonde, and Carol hated even thinking that when one of her best friends had spent much of her life being that typical big eyed blonde…but it also meant that Carol knew the type and knew it well.

The woman was barely thirty and she was chatting away, tipping her head back and forth and back and forth like a parrot…if you'd been drunk and watching her it might have had the potential to make you sick.

Carol drank another sip of her drink and continued to watch the scene.

Daryl didn't look to be too engaged with the woman. He was facing her, every now and again nipping at his thumb nail or cuticle, but he kept darting his head around like he was looking for something…he kept darting it up toward the television screens or back at his beer.

Carol felt something churn in her stomach…and it was something she was quite unaccustomed to. She wouldn't call it jealousy…she had no claim to Daryl and had no reason to feel jealous over him at all.

What she felt was more something along the lines of disgust.

She was disgusted to think that maybe, just maybe, she'd been far too kind to him. Maybe she'd given him the benefit of the doubt and thought he was a "nice guy"…maybe she'd been too quick to think that his ditching her in the middle of the night had to do with something as noble as a broken heart and some crushed dreams when, in reality, it had nothing more to do with anything besides the fact that he was just playing with her until he found something better…something young and blonde.

And the longer that Carol watched the same scene, nothing more happening until it almost seemed like something stuck on repeat, the more the feeling got to her.

The more that it brought up a frustration and an irritation that she hadn't felt in a while…or that she hadn't allowed herself to feel in a while.

Until finally, she wanted nothing more than to pull one of those dramatic stunts from movies that she saw where the livid woman approached the asshole man in her life and fried his jaws just for being a dick.

When Carol realized she could feel her temper burning hot, something that rarely really happened to her, over the thought that she'd been used and ditched…turned over for someone who looked to be quite boring for the fact that she was younger…she tried to calm herself down. She didn't want to feel furious over this…and she didn't want it to ruin the Zen and the good mood that she'd found for herself.

She tried to tell herself that it was possibly Janice…not that it made all that much better…and she tried to tell herself that getting worked up like she was at the moment was absolutely ridiculous and childish on her part. It wasn't something that she would do…it wasn't something she would even approve of.

But it was happening.

And without even thinking about it much more, Carol caught herself slipping her phone into her bra for safe keeping…figuring she might need it really soon and might owe her friend an apology for possibly ruining her night…and making her way directly toward the bar, elbowing people out of her way with more force than before.

By the time she reached them, she was in a huff like she couldn't remember having been in. She tapped the woman on the shoulder before Daryl even realized she was there and realized who she was.

The woman turned with the shock and expectation on her face that anyone turns with when their attention has been drawn in a crown.

"Excuse me," Carol said, mustering up the best smile she could to hide the fact that her chest was heaving with her newfound desire to slap the first person she'd ever slapped in her life. "Are you Janice, by any chance?"

The woman looked at her puzzled, shook her head, and offered a soft smile.

"No…I'm sorry…I'm Beth," the woman offered.

Carol smiled and nodded her head, whispering a thank you to the woman and then she turned her eyes on Daryl who had, at this point, noticed her and was wearing something of shocked expression.

And for the first time in her life, Carol did something that she absolutely, positively would have never dreamed she'd really do. She threw her drink on him.

And as soon as she did it, she found that she'd absentmindedly covered her mouth with her hand in shock at her own actions.

She stifled, then, the desire that flooded her quickly to laugh…to laugh at her own actions…to laugh at his face as he was stunned and dripping blue colored liquid…to laugh at the whole thing. But she didn't laugh.

"You might want to ask him about Janice," Carol offered to the young woman who looked no less stunned than he did. "He's got an awful lot to say about her…"

Carol sat her now empty glass on the bar between the two of them, both too stunned to say anything at all to her, and she walked off as quickly as her feet would carry her through the crowd, in the direction of the other television where she would hopefully find Alice with relative ease to make a get away from her accidentally dramatic reaction to what she now considered the most scumbagish actions she could think of.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter…and likely the last one for the night. I'll see what I can do about getting more out for you soon for those of you who want it! **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"Hoo hoo…what the hell happened ta you, lil' brother?" Merle howled with a chuckle as he got close enough to tell that Daryl's new blue splash fashion trend was quite different than the clothes that he'd worn into the place.

Daryl frowned and shook his head.

He wasn't even sure how to go explaining what had happened to him…he wasn't entirely sure he understood it well enough explain it if he wanted to.

He'd been listening to the blonde woman, Beth, talk…though he really couldn't have said what the hell she was talking about because he'd zoned out after about the first ten minutes of it…and his reentry into full consciousness came at the refreshingly icy shower that had, so he'd noticed since he'd been mopping himself clean with bar napkins, tasted a little like coconut and pineapple.

Carol had been there…and she'd obviously been pissed, otherwise he wouldn't be wet right now…but the scary thing about it was that she hadn't looked pissed. She'd been fucking smiling the whole damn time he was trying to even register what the hell was happening.

And then, after she'd stormed off, the blonde had stood up, looking at him like she didn't know what to do, and had declared something that he hadn't even caught…his shock still not registering entirely…and she'd walked off.

Now he was just soaking up blue liquid with bar napkins and Merle was laughing at his ass…because Merle had been soaked a couple of times in his life, but Daryl could honestly say that this was a first for him.

"Damn blonde was a lil' spitfire, huh?" Merle asked. "What the hell'd ya do ta piss her off?"

Daryl shook his head and got up from where he was sitting, dropping the wet napkins on the bar near the money he'd put there to cover his tab some time before.

"Weren't the damn blonde," he muttered. "Ya ready ta get'cha ass outta here? Where's ya damn redhead?"

Merle chuckled and sucked his teeth loudly.

"Damn dyke," Merle said. "Shame too…deaf as a fuckin' doornail…but a hot piece. Her damn girlfriend come up…was tryin' ta talk some shit up between 'em…but then this other dyke come up an' hell they all took off. Was like some kinda damn television show or some shit…I figured I'd come an' find you 'cause after all that shit, looks like the damn night's a bust…but hell lil' brother…you doin' worse'n me!"

"Shut the fuck up, Merle," Daryl muttered, even though he realized that with his question he'd actually been the one to invite Merle to speak in the first place.

He started through the bar, irritation coursing through his veins along with the feeling of beating himself up.

He was irritated that Carol had shown up and threw a drink on him…he was irritated that he was wet and smelled like a damn pirate's dream…but he was also beating himself up because, in a way, he could imagine why the hell she might have done it.

Hell he hadn't called her back after they'd spent the night together. He hadn't even dropped her a text message or anything…and then she'd seen him talking to the blonde. There was a good damn chance she figured that he used the hell out of her…and in some ways maybe he had…and that was enough to piss anyone off.

So he wanted, now, to take his conflicting emotions home and change the fuck out of his clothes and he wanted to get the hell out of the bar where everyone who had seen it, and even some who hadn't, were staring at him because it wasn't every day in Salty's that some bitch went crazy and slung a drink on someone.

Even if they deserved it.

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"What's happening!? I don't even know what's happening!" Sadie declared as Carol and Alice practically drug her into the parking lot.

It was only when they stopped, in the middle of the parking lot that was illuminated by the glowing lights around them, that Carol realized she hadn't been properly introduced to the woman that she'd just wrenched through a crowd and probably very nearly dislocated the arm of.

Carol's heart was pounding and her breath was coming in gulps over all of it. She hadn't even explained to Alice what had happened…she hadn't even told her why they had to leave and why she was in as big of a hurry to get out of the bar as she might have been in to escape if she'd just robbed a bank.

But she'd wanted to avoid a scene…she'd wanted to avoid a scene that she'd set into motion and her mind was still spinning with the fact that she'd done something that even she couldn't believe.

And when she, panting, tried to open her mouth to answer the questions pouring forth from Alice…who bless her heart had grabbed her date and thrown an undetermined amount of money at the bar, willing to run with Carol without explanation from the place…and from Sadie…who was bound to be just as confused as Alice, and maybe more since she didn't even know Carol…all that came out was laughter.

And Carol dissolved into the laughter that was pouring out of her. She couldn't help it and she couldn't stop it. For all the anger that she'd felt inside, at the moment she just found it oddly exhilarating and hilarious that she'd actually just done what she'd done.

"Oh God!" She declared, covering her mouth with her hand in an effort to hold back the laughter that she couldn't have explained well. "I threw a drink on someone!"

Alice wrapped her hand around Carol's arm and Carol straightened up her stance, the laughter dying a little.

"You did what? You really threw a drink on someone?" Alice asked.

Carol nodded her head and only noticed then that Sadie, wearing a very confused expression on her face, was looking at both of them with her mouth open.

And if she weren't making that face…Carol might have agreed that she was very attractive…but right now she looked like she had no idea what to do or what was happening to her.

And that just made Carol laugh again.

"Are you drunk?" Alice asked. "You haven't had time to get drunk…"

Carol shook her head, getting the laughter under control again.

"No…" she said, feeling tears stinging at her eyes from the humor that had made her chest ache. As she was coming down off of it, though, and as she was remembering what happened not for the shock that it had caused even her but for the action that had led to it in the first place, she started to feel a sinking in her stomach. "No…I'm not drunk…I didn't even finish my drink…"

She paused.

"I didn't finish it because I threw most of it on Daryl…" Carol said.

Alice looked at her and then she laughed, and the other woman…Sadie…continued to stare at the wide eyed like she had no idea whatsoever what was going or even if she was about to be clubbed over the head and kidnapped.

"What happened?" Alice asked. "Why did you throw your drink on someone? Who's Daryl? Jesus I have so many questions!"

Carol cast her eyes back toward the entrance to the bar to make sure that no one was coming out. She had never done anything in quite like this in her life, and she wasn't entirely sure how Daryl might react to the whole thing. Just to be sure that they were out of the line of sight if he were to come out…and just to avoid some kind of scene that she hadn't thought through, she pushed her small crowd to hide a little more among a row of cars instead of occupying center stage in the parking lot.

"Daryl was the guy from the thing…you know…the thing…that happened?" Alice nodded her head and Carol felt clawing at her arm. She turned her head quickly to face Sadie who was now wearing a smile on her face, though it looked a little dramatic, to be a stark change from her earlier confusion.

"Hi," Sadie said, smiling a little more widely and waving the hand not digging into Carol's arm. "I'm Sadie…I'm deaf," she pointed to her ear and tipped her head to the side, still smiling. "Can you talk to me? I can read your lips…"

Carol covered her mouth, for a moment even forgetting the events of the evening and felt terrible for essentially ignoring and then alienating this woman.

"I'm sorry…" Carol said.

Sadie's face dropped and she started shaking her head at Carol.

"Oooh…oooh noo noo noo," she said to Carol. "Don't say sorry…but what the hell is going on?"

Carol laughed a little at Sadie's concern that she'd made her feel bad…painted all over her face because Carol could already tell, in just a few moments, that this was a woman who had more than enough expressions for four people.

"There was this man…and I met him and we got drunk and…" Carol waved her hand and Sadie nodded her head. "And then we got back up together…and he goes on and on about this woman…Janice…and how she broke his heart and she cheated on him…with a younger man…and I thought…"

Carol stopped and shrugged and shook her head at the thoughts that just trying to explain it were sending around and around her mind.

"Well…anyway…I thought he was something that he wasn't," Carol said. "And he…never called…and he was in the bar…just talking to this woman who was thirty maybe…and I don't even know what came over me…"

She stopped again and looked at Alice who was only halfway paying attention to her. Alice was looking Sadie with a look on her face that just said she'd found the keys to a Cadillac in the bottom of a box of Cracker Jack.

"I don't know what the hell came over me!" Carol declared, dropping her arms at her side.

Because she truly didn't know what had come over her. She didn't know what it was, exactly, about Daryl and about seeing him there talking to that woman that had brought out a side of her that she didn't really know she had.

Over the years she'd seen her friends have pretty dramatic reactions to things that happened…she'd laughed about them, wallowed in shock over them, all the things she needed to do when she'd heard about their escapades…but it had never really been her that did that. She was, without honking her own horn, the most consistently level headed of them all.

But she felt, in the moment, like she'd thrown the drink in his face for herself and for every woman who had ever opened herself up to a man…who had ever believed that he was a good guy…a king among men, even, to wax poetic since she was obviously feeling theatrical this evening…and then he'd just used her and thrown her to the side.

And he'd done it for a younger woman…because he couldn't be bothered to call her. He couldn't even have been bothered enough to send her a text message saying "thanks but no thanks"…nothing.

"That's awful! That's awful!" Sadie spat, disgust painted on her face now to replace the earlier expression.

"Please…" Carol said, directing her attention to Sadie but cutting her eyes toward Alice who was paying her a little more attention now. "Please…I hate to do this…I'm so sorry…but can we go or something? I know you two were talking…but I don't want him to come out…"

Carol cut her eyes back toward the bar but he hadn't emerged, or if he had, she'd missed it and he'd missed them…or chosen not to react.

Alice tapped Sadie, getting her attention.

"I know this might sound bad…" Alice started.

Sadie shook her head at Alice and laughed lightly.

"Nothing sounds bad to me…" she said.

Carol couldn't help but chuckle even though she had no idea what Alice was going to say and Alice chuckled too.

"Why don't we…go back to my place? We can talk…have a drink or something…" Alice said. She shook her head. "Not…not a date…I mean there's three of us…but hell…I don't know…get the fuck out of here…no?"

Carol nodded her head. She was fine with whatever they might propose at this point…whether it was her going home and then going off to ride into the sunset singing Disney songs together…or whether it was going to Alice's house to have a drink and talk about things…she really didn't care what happened as long as it got her out of the parking lot and somewhere where she could stew through this and put the whole thing behind her.

Sadie shrugged and then flapped her arms by her side.

"Sounds good to me…um…my car is there…I could follow you?" She asked, raising her eyebrows at both Carol and Alice.

"Great!" Alice declared. "Great! Wonderful! I'm driving that car," Alice pointed toward her Jeep. "The black Jeep…follow me…"

Sadie nodded and Carol headed to Alice's car, still thinking over what she'd done and exactly why she'd felt the need to do something so unlike herself.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter to wrap up bar night. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"I mean…you hear of people doing that…but I've never done anything like that in my whole life!" Carol declared.

She was sitting on the floor in Alice's living room, all three of them were actually, on the couch cushions they'd pulled free from the couch and put around the coffee table and they were sharing leftovers from Alice's refrigerator and drinks of their choice since Alice had a well stocked bar, never wanting to tell anyone that she didn't have what they wanted.

"I think it's pretty great," Alice declared. "I've always wanted to throw a drink on someone…never have…always saw it happening in my head but then just got too damn mad to actually waste good alcohol."

Sadie raised her hand, catching both of their attention.

"I threw a drink at my ex's girlfriend," Sadie said with a satisfied smile.

"At her girlfriend?" Alice asked.

Sadie nodded.

"Her girlfriend…was her girlfriend before…and is her girlfriend now…but she cheated on me…we were together three years," Sadie explained.

Carol watched the woman because she signed while she talked, ignoring entirely the fact that Carol and Alice both lacked any knowledge whatsoever of the language. Carol thought it was fascinating to watch, though, especially in her current state of mind, because it looked so graceful and so engaging.

"This is cheat?" Carol asked, tapping the woman on the arm and trying to mimic what she'd done with her hands.

Sadie repeated a gesture and Carol copied it, smiling at herself when she got the nod from the woman.

"That's the bad part, though," Alice said. "That's the part that just pisses you off…it's the cheating. I mean fuck the cheating…cheaters deserve to get sloshed in the face with drinks…"

Sadie nodded her head dramatically.

"If you don't want me…if you're done with me? Tell me goodbye…tell me you found some…someone one…some…thing better," Sadie said.

"Exactly!" Alice exclaimed. "Cut my ass loose…have the decency to do that. Go get what the hell makes you happy, but don't string me along and cheat on me like I'm not worth that."

Carol nodded her head in agreement.

There was something about cheating that stung worse than some of the other things that a partner could do to you. It stung because it not only said you weren't good enough for them…after all they were searching out something better…but that you weren't even on a level where they respected you enough to let you know that you should do the same. You were being cut loose, as it were. Instead, they were keeping you on the line, dragging you along, giving you only a part of themselves while they decided what they liked most. You had become, to someone that you likely thought was yours and yours alone, only a second thought or a backup plan.

After a moment, Alice spoke again, sucking her way through some of the mini pickles that she was fishing out of a jar and eating.

"That's why the hell you did what you should have done tonight," Alice declared. "Fuck that asshole throwing you over for some thirty year old."

"That's even worse…" Sadie offered, scrunching up her face. "At least my ex and her girlfriend are about the same age as me…"

Carol shook her head.

"He wasn't cheating on me," she declared. "He didn't owe me anything…I mean we slept together but we never said that it meant anything…it was just…just what it was."

"But he owed you something," Alice declared. "He at least owed you the decency of saying that it wasn't anything…"

Carol shrugged slightly.

She wasn't sure how she felt about it now that she was calming down some. On the one hand, she could say that the reason she was most bothered about the whole situation was because there had been nothing…there had been no indication from him that he wasn't interested or no explanation, no matter how fabricated and along the lines of "it's not you it's me" that it might have been, offered up about the night.

And she'd been the one to jump to conclusions…she'd been the one to dismiss that by deciding that he was too heartbroken for a relationship...or for anything really. She'd technically been the one to set herself up for that, since he hadn't offered anything.

But it had still bothered her to see him there, at the bar, talking to the young woman who wasn't the woman that she'd listened to him yammer on about. It bothered her because…and maybe this was a problem that was wholly her own…it had felt like it was a clear indication that it was her. It wasn't him…it was her. He hadn't gotten in touch with her, not because he didn't want a relationship or didn't think he could handle it, but because he didn't want to be with her.

And there was the sting of the whole thing. Even though she recognized that this man, in all reality, really owed her nothing at all.

"I don't think he owed me anything," Carol said finally. "And it doesn't matter…because I'm pretty sure I ruined his night a lot more than he's ruined mine…"

Carol realized then how late it was…it struck her all at once…and she was going to have to work tomorrow, even if Alice didn't have to.

"I've got to go home…" Carol said. "I've got to work in the morning…"

"Stay the night," Alice declared. "Take the guest room…I'll make sure you're up in plenty of time to get home and get ready…"

Sadie nodded her head, looking back and forth between them.

"I could drive you," she said. "If you need…I have to work tomorrow."

It wasn't going to take too much convincing on Carol's part. She could and had spent the night a good number of times at her friends' houses…to the point that she almost felt as at home in their abodes as she did in her own.

"OK," Carol said, nodding her head. "But I can take the couch if you're staying…the guest bed is more comfortable."

Sadie offered her a half smile and then glanced at Alice.

"No…I'll sleep on the couch," Sadie said, broadening her smile. "You've had a big night…It's fine…"

"Yeah…I mean…you're comfortable in the guest room…and I'm not ready for bed yet…but if you are…" Alice said.

And Carol bit the inside of her lip as realization hit her. She was being sent to bed in the guest bedroom so that she wouldn't, perhaps, know that there was a good chance that no one was sleeping on the couch tonight.

But she decided to play along for decorum's sake and go to bed. She was tired, after all, and she did have to work…and she wasn't going to push to sleep on the couch when she wasn't putting anyone out of a comfortable place to sleep and the guest room was a far superior place to sleep.

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"You ain't tried ta call or nothin'?" Merle asked as he came through the living room a second time from whatever the hell he was doing and settled into his recliner.

"No Merle…that's why the hell I'm sittin' here with my damn phone in my hand," Daryl spat at him.

As the night was wearing on, he was feeling worse and worse about the situation. He'd come clean to Merle about the fact that he'd failed to call Carol back after their night together. He'd explained to Merle that Carol was the reason that he had to change his clothes and take another shower the moment he walked through the door.

And now he was kicking his own ass because the more that he turned over in his mind what had happened and the more that he considered it, the more he realized how big of a dick he'd really been…and the more he realized what the hell it would feel like to have been Carol and seen him out talking to the blonde…the blonde that he hadn't really found all that interesting, but she would have had no way of knowing that.

So he'd tried to call her repeatedly, but he kept getting her voice mail. He'd left one message…and he'd sent one text message…both trying to get her to call him back, but he didn't want to leave a message for each time he called because he was already embarrassed by the number of calls he'd put through in the past couple of hours.

"Don't'cha be no damn lil' bitch ta me," Merle declared. "Not when you the one that fucked up…hell…ya spent a whole damn night talkin' ta her 'bout'cha fuckin' woes with Janice? Ya don't never do that shit…tells 'em up front ya worried 'bout relationships…ya worried 'bout romance an' commitment an' all that shit…"

"Yeah you got it all fuckin' figured out," Daryl responded back, cutting his eyes at his brother.

Merle chuckled and a yawn broke it as he scratched at his chest.

"Hell…I tell 'em up front I ain't lookin' for that shit…then they ain't lookin' for it neither," Merle said. "Get some crazies sometimes…think 'cause they let'cha stick ya dick in 'em ya gon' up an' change ya mind…but most the damn time ya don't call…they ain't no problem. Ever' damn body involved understood the damn details an' expectations. You…fucked up."

Merle pointed his finger at Daryl as though what he was saying to him…the fact that he might have very well fucked up a good deal…was some kind of surprise to him.

"Ya up an' let her damn know ya was all about relationships an' shit…fucked her on top a' that…an' then ain't called her," Merle said. He sucked his teeth and shook his head. "She ain't gon' answer that damn phone…"

He broke off and chuckled.

"Hell nah…she ain't gon' answer it," Merle said. "You can count that damn lil' lady good as gone…if ya liked it so damn much ya gon' be sour over it now…shoulda had enough damn hair on ya balls ta call her when ya split…"

"Her phone's off," Daryl muttered. "Goes straight ta voicemail…she might call my ass back…hell…I shoulda called her ass before, but I reckon I damn well gotta try ta explain this shit now…"

"What for?" Merle asked, sitting up and slamming the bottom part of his recliner into place. He rubbed his hand over his face. "What the hell's it matter ta ya so damn much for?"

Daryl stared at him.

He wasn't even sure why it mattered so much to him that Carol understood that he'd meant to call…that he hadn't called because he hadn't known what to say…that he still didn't know what to say…that he hadn't called then because he thought the time that had passed would make it awkward. He wasn't sure why it mattered…when he should be pissed that she'd thrown a damn drink on him…when he should pissed that some bat shit crazy woman that he hardly even knew soaked him in some pirate drink and run off the woman he was trying to talk to…but it did matter to him.

And he knew she wasn't bat shit crazy. If she'd have been bat shit crazy…there would have been some other indication. She would have been calling him so much and so damn quick that he'd never have even had the time to not talk to her.

But she hadn't called him.

And she'd thrown the drink on him because she thought he was a bigger asshole than he was…and that was saying a lot.

And even if he didn't know why the hell it mattered it so much to him, it did matter…

Merle hummed and got up from his recliner again.

"I'm goin' ta bed…don't keep ya ass up too damn late or ya ain't gon' be worth shit tomorrow," Merle said. "But might do ya some damn good…ya know…figure out why the hell it matters so damn much…"

Merle didn't wait for a response of any kind from Daryl before he slipped back into his room and closed the door with a loud thud, indicating that he was going to bed for the night.

Daryl sighed to himself, flipped open his phone, and dialed Carol's number once more. When it went directly to voicemail again, he realized that he wasn't talking to her tonight. She wasn't going to answer the phone, and she wasn't going to call him back either.

Daryl hung up the phone and got off the couch, heading to bed, his thoughts about the evening's events still pinballing around in his brain.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Carol had turned her phone off the night before when she'd left the bar with Alice and Sadie…she didn't need it and anyone who needed to check on her for any reason could easily call Alice to do a round up.

And she hadn't turned it on this morning either. She'd been caught in a scramble to get ready quickly and get out the door at Alice's house, thanking Sadie for driving her back to her own home with time to shower and get ready so that she didn't show up late to the café.

So she'd been surprised when, during her mid-morning break, she'd remembered that her phone was off and turned it back on to find a handful of text messages and voicemails waiting on her. Carol leaned against the counter in the back and listened to the text messages first, wading through a check in call from Andrea and then two messages from Daryl…his voice almost making her breathing catch because she imagined he'd be furious for her drink fiasco…both asking her to call him back, declaring that he should have called earlier, and then returning to asking her to call him back.

The text messages, when she checked them, matched the voice mails. One from Andrea declaring that she must be having a hell of a time with Alice and that she would see her between clients if she got a chance to jog down to the café…and two from Daryl, one from the night before and one from early this morning, both repeating the please call and should have called mantra.

But Carol didn't call him. She didn't know what to say or even if she really wanted to talk to him. He didn't really owe her anything, and she'd come to terms with that…and she was a little sorry for throwing her drink on him. But she didn't owe him anything either.

She hadn't been prepared in the slightest when, while she was working the lunch time crowd, he showed up, dressed in paint spackled clothes and looking as uncomfortable and out of place as a bastard at a family reunion.

Carol knew his garb was most likely owing to whatever project he was doing…she was well aware now that he worked for Tyreese Scott, and Tyreese owned a small business that could be considered, for lack of a better term, a handyman company and a catch all of sorts…but it was more his demeanor and the way he looked around that made him painfully out of place in the café.

Carol served the table she was in the process of delivering food to and then she quickly ducked back to the kitchen just after she'd seen him find her with his eyes.

She was going to have to face him, but she at least needed to let Jacqui and the other waitress that was working there know that she was going to be stepping away from her tables for the moment.

When she came out front, taking a deep breath and hoping that Daryl didn't cause any type of scene, she wasn't really sure what she expected.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, realizing after she said it that her voice came out much more harsh and accusatory than she'd really meant.

Daryl looked at her like he was stunned.

"Ya can't answer ya damn phone calls?" He responded back.

Carol glanced around the café at the lunch crowd. The place wasn't packed, perhaps, but they had a decent number of people there and more would spill in since they also got the crowd that took lunch at one and two as well as those who took the more customary hour.

"I've been kind of busy," Carol responded to him, raising her eyebrows.

Daryl glanced around.

"Can ya talk ta me now? Or I gotta soak ya in somethin' ta get'cha attention?" Daryl asked.

Carol felt her face burn a little hot. Maybe she deserved that. Although Alice and Sadie had both cheered her on the night before for her drink throwing, she realized it wasn't exactly her shining moment.

"Let's go sit…over there," Carol said, gesturing toward a table that was a little bit out of the way. "But I don't have long…I have to work…"

"I weren't talkin' 'bout takin' up ya whole day," Daryl muttered.

Carol led the way to the table and sat down, groaning to herself at the sweet feeling that was getting off her feet when she'd been running around most of the morning. Daryl sat down, fiddling with the sugar packets on the table.

"Well?" Carol asked.

Daryl sucked his teeth.

"I know I shoulda called ya ass…" Daryl said.

Carol frowned but didn't interrupt him. She wanted to hear whatever it was he had to say…she wanted to hear his probably faulty explanation…because in the back of her mind she couldn't get out the feeling that anything he had to say to her now wouldn't be so much genuine as it would be born out of the fact that she'd embarrassed him in Salty's in front of his little date.

"I meant ta call ya…really I did…" Daryl said. "But I lost track a' time an' the longer it went on…hell I thought it was too damn awkward ta call ya then 'cause I ain't knowed what ta say ta ya…I just ain't had no damn words for what I wanted ta say…"

Carol felt heat in her cheeks at the statement.

"You certainly didn't have any problem finding words that night," she said.

He looked at her, a little sheepish, perhaps.

"You talked for hours, Daryl," Carol said. "And you couldn't find the words to tell me…"

She broke off because she didn't know what she would have said if she were him. She'd never been in the position he would have been in of ditching someone and she didn't want to put words into his mouth as to exactly why he'd done it, even if her brain did have a few possible scenarios it was throwing around.

"You couldn't find the words to just tell me that you weren't interested?" Carol asked.

Daryl stared at her a moment and then he chewed his lip, shaking his head.

"I weren't gonna tell ya I weren't interested…" Daryl said. "At least…that ain't what the hell I thought I was gonna say…but I didn't know what the hell to say…"

"So you just chose not to say anything? Is that it?" Carol asked.

She was surprised at the irritation that she felt bubbling around inside of her. It was almost like a renewal of the feelings from the bar…but they were still feelings that she was uncomfortable with.

Daryl shrugged slightly and then he chuckled somewhat ironically, scratching at what he had of a beard.

"I don't know what ta say now," he said. He shook his head. "I don't know what ta say…'cause I weren't gonna say I weren't interested…"

Carol tipped her head to the side and raised an eyebrow at him, almost feeling disbelief…or maybe that's what it was, tangled up and rolling around inside of her with confusion.

"You weren't going to say you weren't interested?" She asked. "What were you going to say, then? That you were…what? That you were interested but you were just going to…to go down to Salty's and drink with…whatever that girl's name was? Were you trying to figure out how to put that into a message?"

Daryl's eyes went a little wide and he chuckled nervously.

"Hell…don't sound too damn good when ya put it that damn way," he muttered.

"No…no it doesn't sound very good…" Carol responded, shaking her head at him. "But if that's what you were going to say, don't worry about it, Daryl. I got the message."

Daryl nodded his head and then craned his neck like he was trying to pop it.

"Ya pissed…I can see that," he said.

Carol shook her head and raised her eyebrows at him.

"No…I'm not," she responded.

And it was the truth. She wasn't pissed off…not like he was suggesting. And maybe what she was saying sounded harsh to him and maybe it was harsh…but she was really more hurt than she was pissed off.

It just so happened that, with him, her hurt came out looking a little like pissed off…and it didn't help that he was wearing some expression like some wounded animal…some expression that she assumed was supposed to make her feel sorry for him and for how he was being treated. But she'd already felt sorry for him once.

"Listen…I was just havin' a drink with that woman," Daryl said. "That's all the hell I was doin' an' it weren't even no good damn time…I been tryin' ta figure out how ta talk ta ya ass without comin' off as an asshole for not callin' earlier…"

He got up from the table.

"But I reckon that I just gone an' made that shit worse, 'cause I come off as an even bigger asshole," Daryl said.

Carol stood up so that she was facing him and more on his level. She didn't like, and she hadn't liked for a long time, to be the only one sitting in a conversation. It always made her feel uncomfortable and like there was some kind of imbalance of power or control…an imbalance made worse by the fact that she was suddenly put so much lower than whoever she was talking to.

"I'm not mad, Daryl," she said finally. She shook her head and then finally shrugged, forcing a smile. "Really…I'm not. And you don't owe me anything at all. We had what I thought was a nice night together…and you moved on. If anything I shouldn't have been childish and thrown a drink at you."

She was ready to say whatever she had to say and move on from this because the one thing that she was learning was that, for whatever reason, something about this man got under her skin in some way. Something about him made her feel sorry for him when he took on a certain expression or tone of voice, just like it had when he'd talked about Janice. Something about him made her feelings a little more heightened, even, than she was used to them being…and she didn't want to be around that.

Not when it was just something that was likely to get her hurt because it was clear that he wasn't interested…or at the very least, it was clear that he wasn't sure what he wanted…and she didn't want to keep herself hanging on and hanging around with a man who wasn't sure about whether or not he wanted to spend the night with her or with a thirty year old blonde.

She was just too old for that kind of game.

"So that's just it, huh?" Daryl asked, nodding his head at her, a little something like irritation coming out of her voice. "That's all ya got ta say ta me? Had a nice damn night an' ya sorry for throwin' ya drink on me?"

Carol glanced around to make sure that no one was watching them…and luckily no one really was or seemed to be. She didn't want to cause a scene in her own café.

"What do you want me to say?" Carol asked. "What is there left to say?"

Daryl frowned at her.

"I'm tryin' ta tell ya ass I'm sorry," Daryl said. "I'm tryin' ta tell ya that I'm sorry I ain't called…I shoulda called…an' I'm sorry I didn't."

Carol sighed and nodded her head.

"Fine," she said. "Fine…apology accepted. I accept your apology for not calling…anything else?"

He narrowed his eyes for a second with a look of irritation bleeding over his features and then they widened again.

"I'm sorry 'bout what the hell happened at the bar," he added. "An' I'm sorry 'bout whatever the hell ya thought about it, but it weren't whatever you was thinkin' it was…when I shoulda called ya…when I was gonna call ya an' I didn't…what the hell I meant ta say was I had a good time…"

Carol nodded her head, now wishing for an escape more than she'd wished for one before. She swallowed.

"I had a good time too…I'm sorry about what happened at the bar," Carol said. "You're forgiven…for whatever it is that you need to be forgiven for…for whatever reason you're here…you're forgiven. Go in peace…or whatever it is that you're looking for me to say."

Carol waved her hand. She hated waving him off, but she didn't know what to do anymore and she was ready to end this conversation. She was ready to get away from him and the feelings that he caused in her…the feelings that the whole situation caused in her…because they weren't something that she needed.

Daryl audibly swallowed and looked around before he brought his attention back to her.

"You won't give no damn body a second chance?" Daryl asked. "Fuck up once an' that's the damn end of it?"

Carol wrinkled her brow at him.

"What kind of second chance do you want?" Carol asked.

"Dinner," Daryl responded. "I want'cha ta have dinner with me…give me a chance ta not fuck up…give me a chance ta…hell…ta call ya afterwards…tell ya I had a damn good time…a chance not ta tell ya 'bout my damn ex…"

"I have to get back to work," Carol offered.

Daryl chuckled then, the feeling around them almost lightening up with the chuckle.

"Me too…ain't gon' take ya no time at all ta say yes ta dinner," Daryl said.

Carol frowned.

"Just dinner…" Daryl said. "That's all the hell ya gotta do is eat…an' ya gotta eat ta live…so what'cha losin'?"

Carol sighed.

"Fine…fine…" she said. "Dinner…I'll have dinner with you."

Daryl smiled then.

"Fine…tonight?" He asked.

Carol shrugged.

"Fine…I've got to eat tonight just the same as any night," she offered, still not entirely sure how she felt about the whole thing.

Daryl smiled.

"Good deal," he said. "Then dinner tonight…pick ya up at seven…but…uh…I'll text ya beforehand…make sure ya remember."

He smiled again and Carol couldn't help but smile at him, even if it was in spite of herself. She raised her eyebrows at him once more.

"Are you sure? That would require you using your phone…I know you're not real good at that," she teased.

Daryl smiled and nodded his head before sucking his teeth.

"Think I got it this time…just might figure that shit out," Daryl said. "Tonight…" he repeated before he turned and walked quickly back through the patio area and out of the café's outdoor area without saying anything else.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. **

**I got a chuckle out of a review stating that the date was exciting because many fanfics skip dates. If this is your first time with me…be prepared. I don't skip dates (though I do, many times, skip explicit smut). In my stories you get the world of the good, the bad, the ugly…and the very, very awkward. LOL**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Even though it had been a little while since Carol had been on her last proper date, it didn't take her very long to remember how much she enjoyed the ritual of the whole thing. She liked getting ready for dates.

And she hadn't always been that way…

When she'd gotten ready for dates when she was younger, the process had been very different. She had thought, at all times, about who was she was going out with. What would he like? What would he appreciate? What colors were his favorites? Had he mentioned that he liked her hair a certain way…her makeup…her perfume?

But now Carol prepared for dates like she was taking herself out more than anything. Who she was going with was of second concern. Because, then, if the date was terrible and ended up being one of those situations where she felt like the night was a bust…at least she enjoyed the ritual of putting on something nice…doing her make up the way that she wanted it…choosing just the right pieces of jewelry.

Because even after the worst of dates that she'd been on, at least when she'd spent the time "honoring herself" as Michonne called the ritual of getting ready for your eyes and your eyes alone…she still felt better while she was washing it all off and getting ready for bed than she ever had when she had dressed for a man only to be disappointed by him.

Daryl texted Carol an hour before he intended to pick her up and she read through the message twice even though it wasn't much of a message. They were going to Mahonne's…if it was comfortable they might sit outside.

He didn't know when he'd texted that she was already dressed. She was ready except for her jewelry…her perfume selection…and now except for picking out the shawl she would take in case they did sit outside and she found the air to be chilly enough to need it.

It didn't matter that it was warm outside, Carol was particularly susceptible to cold, and she always dressed accordingly. She wasn't going to subject herself to shivering all night just to avoid wearing something to ward off the chill…and she had a nice collection of wraps and shawls that didn't see nearly enough time outside of her closet.

By the time that there was a knock at her door, Carol had only to pick her purse up from the corner of the bar in her kitchen where she'd left it and she was ready to go. She opened the door to reveal Daryl standing there…not dressed quite as nicely as she was…but dressed nicely in a button down shirt and clean jeans, his hair combed and his face cleanly shaven.

He was studying her doorjamb when she opened the door, picking at it with his finger, but he turned quickly when the door was open and he smiled…the same crooked smile he'd offered her at the café earlier.

"Ya didn't text me back," he said. "Weren't sure you was still comin'…"

Carol smiled.

"I don't back out of my obligations," she said. "Are you ready?"

Daryl chuckled.

"Hell…ain't I s'posed ta be the one ta ask that?" He asked.

Carol nodded her head.

"Ya look good," Daryl offered, the compliment coming out as both a compliment and something that sounded a little hurried…a little rehearsed. Something that he was supposed to say and he was afraid that, in their impromptu conversation, he might have forgotten it.

Carol smiled.

"Thank you, you look very nice too," she said.

It was only then that Daryl backed out of her doorway enough for her to step through and he waited to the side while she locked the door and checked it to make sure that the lock had engaged correctly.

He walked her to the truck, catching her by the elbow in an almost familiar manner and then opened the truck door for her. She felt her cheeks burn a little hot. No matter how many dates she'd been on in her life, it always surprised her when a man was a gentleman…and it was always a little flattering, even if it was rehearsed.

Carol buckled herself into the bucket seat of the old truck that Daryl drove and glanced around the space. It was messy, but there were signs that a hurried attempt had been made to clean it. She smiled at the effort that had been put behind it, appreciating it for what it was. And she settled back against the seat to wait while he got in and cranked the truck, driving them toward the restaurant.

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"Get whatever the hell ya want," Daryl said over his menu at Carol.

They'd chosen to eat inside. It was really nice outside, except for the fact that the wind had decided to blow with a certain fierceness and really that could make for an annoying time if you were all the time trying to anchor down your napkins and eat around the gusts.

So they were settled in at a table in the dimly lit restaurant and studying the menus.

"You ever been here?" Daryl asked.

Carol noticed that even in the dim lighting…the probably mood lighting of the place…she could tell that Daryl was blushing a little and she accepted the question as merely his effort to start some kind of conversation…some kind of conversation that wouldn't circle around things that had already happened between the two of them.

She nodded her head gently…everyone had been to Mahonne's…if you lived anywhere in the surrounding two towns and you wanted to go somewhere that was decently priced and still retained a little charm…something that wasn't a chain restaurant…then you'd been to Mahonne's.

"I love it here," Carol commented. She smiled at the menu in her hand and closed it. "And I don't even know why I look at the menu anymore…because I always get the same thing."

Daryl chuckled and closed his menu too, touching his chin with the tip of his thumb in some contemplation.

"Yeah…I do too…lemme guess…you get one a' the salads…" Daryl said.

Carol smiled at him. Finally, though, she nodded her head.

"Blackened chicken," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Unless it's a really special occasion…"

Daryl raised an eyebrow at her.

"What the hell ya get for special occasions?" He asked.

Carol smiled again.

"You're not going to guess?" She asked, feigning disappointment.

He chuckled.

"Hell…lemme see…" He opened the menu back up and studied the rows of food that were offered. He kept glancing at her as though somehow he could match her face with her selections on the menu.

Finally after a moment, he closed the menu and smirked at her.

"Special damn occasion…ya prob'ly goin' all out an' gettin' the roasted chicken dinner…" He said confidently.

Carol smiled at the game and shook her head.

"Surf and turf," she admitted. "Lobster and steak…always on my birthday."

He raised his eyebrows in something of surprise and she knew why. The platters of food that they brought out for the surf and turf at the restaurant were dauntingly big. She couldn't finish it…she never could…but she always gave it her best effort.

"What about you?" She asked. "You said you always get the same thing?"

He nodded, smirking and it brought a smile to her face as she tried to decide what a man like Daryl might eat at Mahonne's.

"Steak," she said. "Rare…medium rare…but steak…"

Daryl chuckled.

"That's my damn special occasion," Daryl said. "Hell…eat the whole damn thing an' ya liable ta think this birthday's gonna be ya last…try again…regular damn day…"

Carol laughed at him.

"Fine…" She said. She opened her menu and ran her eyes down the glossy pages of the menu. "On a regular day…you would eat…pasta?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

And he chuckled, nodding his head.

"Not always the same damn kind, though," he declared. "Like tryin' the different ones…the ones they got for the flavor a' the day…my brother…he always gets it 'cause it's all ya can eat an' then he tells 'em he wants more right 'fore he's done eatin'…'cause they gotta give it to ya…"

Daryl broke off, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Bastard ain't a bit more hungry than the damn man in the moon…takes half a bite when they bring the shit an' asks for a damn doggy bag…" Daryl finished.

Carol laughed because she knew people like that…she laughed because she'd seen Andrea do nearly the same thing when it came to the unlimited pastas and the unlimited salads. She said that they wouldn't make it unlimited if they hadn't expected you to take some home for later because no one could eat all of that in one sitting…but in an hour you'd probably want more.

"One of my best friends," Carol said. "She does that too…"

Daryl chuckled.

"Reckon they's assholes ever' damn where. Ya know that shit pisses 'em off here," Daryl said. "But hell…spaghetti's pretty damn cheap…they ain't out too damn much…"

For a moment, the conversation died down. Carol noticed that Daryl dropped his line of vision and appeared to be studying the table cloth, or maybe just beyond the edge of the table where he could see the floor.

And she tried not to stare at him, but she did let her eyes drink him in for a moment…for as long as she dared to let them linger there.

He was a handsome man…but distinguished too. She liked the lines at the corners of his eyes…perhaps an odd thing to like about a man, but she'd always found them attractive…and she liked the way that he looked, even though clean and pressed for the evening, a little rugged…a little well-worn. She embarrassed herself when she thought, for a fleeting second, that a man like that looked like something _comfortable_.

As soon as the thought flitted through her mind, Carol cleared her throat to distract herself and looked around the room, taking in the filled tables around them. The place wasn't crowded at all…but there were enough people there to give someone who enjoyed people watching an eyeful.

When the waiter came, bringing their drink orders and asking if they were ready to order, Carol didn't get a chance to speak before Daryl spoke to the waiter.

"Lady's gonna have the surf an' turf," Daryl said. "An' me…I'll have the ribeye…medium rare."

Carol looked at him and caught him looking back at her out the corner of his eye. She decided, though, not to fight him over the order and instead answered the waiter's questions about salad dressing and her baked potato when it was her turn to answer.

When the waiter had left, she didn't say anything…she simply shot him the facial expression that she hoped said it all.

And it must have because he chuckled and picked at the corner of his napkin.

"Special occasion," he muttered, his voice low enough that if she hadn't already known what he sounded like pronouncing the words, she might not have understood him.

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By the time that Daryl helped Carol out of the truck and showed clearly that he intended to walk her to the door, carrying her box of leftovers, she had to admit to herself that it had been a nice night…a nice date.

In fact, as far as first dates went, it had been about the best she could remember.

And maybe it had something to do with the fact that they'd already slept together…maybe it had something to do with the removal of that tension in the air where you're allowing yourself to imagine what the other person might look like naked…what they might think you look liked naked…that had made the night less stressful, but for whatever reason, it had been about the best first date that Carol could remember.

But, of course, she wasn't sure how Daryl felt about it.

And that's always where the rub came in for a first date. There were decisions to be made at the end of a first date. Do I let him kiss me? Will he try to kiss me? Will there be a second date? Or have I thought all along that this was going much better…much, much better, than he did?

There wasn't a decision about sleeping with him. Carol knew that she wasn't going to do that. She'd gone outside of her comfort zone with him already and jumped off that cliff far too quickly…and although she'd enjoyed the sex…she wasn't going there so rashly again.

She reminded herself, when she saw how uncomfortable he seemed all of a sudden and realized he was likely struggling through his own questions about the date, how little she really knew about this man…and how little he knew about her.

And the thing was that…the older you got…the longer the story became to tell. The story changed, of course, from what it once was…you dropped out all the details…all the things you thought were so important about your life and yourself when you were younger and you had so few experiences…but still the story was a long one for anyone dedicated enough to want to really find out who you were. It started…most of the time…like a laundry list or a job interview. You hit the high notes…gave the most pertinent information…left out all the little things. But if they were something worth keeping…and if they thought you were something worth keeping…then you realized that eventually things would be uncovered…and so far so very little for the both of them had even been touched upon.

After Carol unlocked the door, she reached her hand out, accepting the box of food that Daryl held. He gave it over, gnawing at his lip, and she knew that he was going to kiss her.

So she made it a little easier for him and lined herself up so that he wouldn't have to go on any sort of wild goose chase for her lips. And she waited, but he needed something more…something that said he had permission.

She swallowed.

"Well goodnight…" she offered. "I had a nice time…thank you…"

And it must have been the nudge because he came in for the kiss that was almost hard and sudden…it was uncomfortable in the beginning like first kisses could be…it held all the feeling that he'd forgotten that they'd already jumped this step entirely and went to different kinds of kisses in the bedroom.

The kiss didn't reflect that at all…it reflected the starting from point A…and Carol pushed herself upwards, deepening the kiss as it relaxed and she felt the warmth of his fingers as his hand found the back of her neck and his fingers laced into the hair there.

When the kiss broke apart, having become by the end of it a proper kiss and not the nervous bumblings it began as, Carol smiled and cleared her throat, noticing the rise in her breathing.

And Daryl chewed his lip, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Goodnight," he said, his voice a little gruff.

They held the silence and the look at one another for a moment and then he smiled, breaking the spell and backing up a little. He cleared his throat.

"I'ma call ya…text ya…" he said.

Carol smiled and nodded her head slightly, moving to put her hand on her door now.

"You do that," she said. "Don't forget?"

Daryl smiled and shook his head, turning his body to start back in the direction of his truck.

"Ain't gonna forget," he said. "Night…"

And Carol slipped into the house, smiling to herself even as she closed the door behind her and locked it for the night.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter for you all. **

**I'm tickled pink at all your reviews and messages. I'm so thrilled that you like the story so much! **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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When the plate of nachos slid across the table and in front of her face, it pulled Andrea out of her moping daydream and back into the noisy bar.

She glanced up, noticing then, for the first time, the man that was standing at the edge of her table, preparing himself to sit without having asked permission, a beer in his hand. He was the bearer of nachos.

And Andrea eyes the platter of food.

Honestly…she loved cheese more than she thought it was really suitable for anyone to love food. She loved food in general…but there was something about hot, melting cheese that could get to you…and she was in just the mood to eat her feelings.

But she hadn't exactly been asked if she wanted any of it…and it wasn't exactly good for her figure to have done to that platter the probably unattractive things that she might want to do to it.

So she turned her attention to man who settled down across from her like he knew her when she was quite confident that she'd never met him…though he did look at least a little familiar. She'd seen him…but she didn't know who he was.

"Nachos?" He asked, pushing the platter toward her.

Andrea stared at him.

"Who are you?" Andrea asked, unable to keep herself entirely from smiling merely at the confidence that this man had that he could come and sit with her…whether or not he brought her nachos.

The man looked up from the little pile of napkins he was building…really more of a trail going from his side of the nacho platter to the edge of the table and stared at her a second before he chuckled.

"Oh…yeah…Merle…Merle Dixon," Merle said. "How 'bout yaself, sugar tits?"

Andrea grimaced and curled her lip at him.

"That's disrespectful…I have a name…" she said.

Merle chuckled.

"Might do…but'cha ain't thrown it yet," he said.

Andrea frowned.

"Andrea," she responded. "Andrea Harrison…"

Merle nodded his head and picked up some of the food off the platter, hovering it over his empty hand.

"Nachos? Andrea Harrison?" He asked, chuckling before he crammed all of the selected food into his mouth in one bite.

"You know that's just cheese…and grease," Andrea said, trying to pretend that she didn't want the nachos and silently cursing him for bringing them to her table when she felt bad enough to eat her feelings…but she was also aware that eating her feelings was one of the reasons that she felt so bad to begin with.

Merle chuckled and swiped at his mouth and hands with extra napkins.

"Nah…got sour cream on there too…an' jalapenos…guacamole…some a' that shits made from fruit…or vegetables…healthy fuckin' shit…'bout the best damn rounded meal ya gonna get'cha ass here...but if you don't like it…more for me," Merle responded.

Andrea chuckled, but she reached and plucked some napkins from the dispenser on the edge of the table and succumbed to her desire to eat the nachos…moaning as the flavor hit her tongue.

And Merle laughed.

"Good to ya after all, huh?" He asked.

Andrea laughed and nodded her head.

She didn't know Merle Dixon…some strange man who came uninvited to her table bearing nachos…but she liked his smile and the odd sort of twinkle in his eye at the moment.

"So who the hell are you, Merle Dixon? The Nacho Fairy?" Andrea asked when she'd wiped her mouth with her napkin.

Merle smiled.

"Damn…ya weren't s'posed ta guess my fuckin' secret identity…they ain't gone like this shit none back at headquarters…" Merle spat.

Andrea laughed and shifted around, choosing another of the loaded down tortilla chips and…ignoring decorum…pushed the whole thing into her mouth, wiping the sour cream off with her finger and sucking her finger clean before she put the napkin to its intended use.

Merle hummed and then he chuckled.

"I'm just a man," he said. "Ain't too damn much more interestin' than that…but I seen ya was alone…been alone since ya come in…"

He stopped took a swallow of his beer, and then started to speak again.

"Aaaannnnd…I usually eat these damn things with my brother…but he's out on some kinda date…and my damn doctor'd have a fuckin' stroke I eat all this shit on my own…" Merle said.

Andrea smiled and raised her eyebrows at him.

"Your doctor…or you?" She teased.

Merle chuckled and nodded his head.

"Touché," he commented.

An oddly comfortable silence fell between both of them for a moment as they both turned their attention to pecking away at the platter of food that was probably suitable for four if correct portions were held in mind.

After a moment, though, Merle swallowed down the bite of food he was chewing and raised his hand up enough to flag the waitress and, using the hand signals of a man who was more than familiar with Salty's, ordered another round of drinks for them both without asking Andrea if she intended to have another when she finished the one that she'd been nursing since her arrival some time earlier.

Merle let out something of a satisfied sigh and made himself more comfortable in the booth.

"So you alone, sweetness…or…uh…I'm just wastin' my time an' my damn food?" Merle asked.

Andrea considered the question for a moment.

The thing about questions like that was that they gave very little information about how you should answer them, but your answer would ultimately decide the rest of the night.

She could, if she wasn't interested, lie about the fact that she was there alone. She could act offended at what she was sure he was suggesting…or she could even act dense and pretend that she had no clue whatsoever might be on his mind to fuel such a question.

Or…she could launch into a whole sad story about why the hell she was alone at Salty's. She could bore him right out of the booth with how she'd asked Shane to meet her there…how she'd spent so much time getting ready…how she'd reveled in her own happiness over the matching lace bra and panty set that she was wearing and how she'd imagined how much he might like it…or at least how much she hoped he would. And she could tell him how Shane had, at the last minute, texted her to say that he wouldn't be coming. Something had come up…and by that she knew that he meant that someone had come up.

She could do all of that…but then she'd simply be wasting a perfectly good, clean, matching bra and panty set. She'd be wasting a perfectly good feeling that she'd worked up…and that she'd lost temporarily when Shane texted…but that was returning to her with the presence of the strange, nacho bearing man with the crooked smile and the twinkle in his eye.

This wasn't her first time playing this game. It was a game that she knew, perhaps, far better than she should.

"I wouldn't say wasting…" she said, raising an eyebrow at him. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Merle's smile dropped…but not in the manner of someone who has just heard something that they didn't want to hear. Rather, it dropped in the manner of someone who has just heard something that they didn't expect to hear…something they hadn't prepared for as completely as they might have prepared for something else.

He swallowed visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing, and took another drink from the almost empty beer bottle before he smoke, the smile curling at the corner of his mouth again.

"How damn honest ya want me ta be?" He asked, his voice a little more sincere than it had been until this point.

Andrea glanced around the sad state of Salty's. There was nothing here for her…and even if there was…she might be hard pressed to find anything better. At the very least, the man across the table from her had brought her fatty food, ordered her alcohol, and he'd brought her a smile…and that alone was worth just about anything any asshole there could produce out of a hat.

"I've never really liked being lied to," Andrea said, her own tone of voice having changed to meet his.

He looked at her a moment and they both got distracted when the waitress brought drinks. They thanked her and she scurried away before they both brought their focus back to one another.

"Lil' damn comp'ny for the night," Merle said. "Someone ta make the hours pass a lil' damn quicker than they do on they own…"

Andrea smiled softly and thought about his answer.

A little company for the night…someone to make the hours pass quicker than they do on their own.

And really, wasn't that why she was there too?

She couldn't pretend that she'd come for any great affection for Shane. She had none for him, really, beyond the fact that he was something of a constant…a go-to. He was someone who was, most of the time, ready and available to give her a release, a vacation from herself. He was someone that she could pretend found her attractive…she could pretend that he found her interesting…even if she suspected that half the time she was riding his dick he was thinking of someone else he'd rather be with.

Shane was just someone for company…someone to keep her from drinking alone at her house and worrying over whether or not that made her an alcoholic…when none of her friends were available to play because they were busy leading their own lives.

He was something to make the hours pass a little more quickly than they did on their own…because if you were alone…even if you enjoyed your solitude sometimes…there were times when it seemed like the ticking of each second on the clock took what had once been an eternity.

"It just so happens," Andrea said, tipping her head to the side slightly, "that's exactly what I came in here looking for…"

Merle smiled and picked up the fresh beer, drinking a swallow of it and belching, chuckling at his own belch.

"That right, huh?" He asked.

Andrea smiled and nodded her head.

"Yep…that's just exactly it," she said.

"Well ain't that for-tu-itous?" Merle responded. "Almost sounds like some kinda damn fate or some shit like that…"

"Fortuitous?" Andrea teased, raising an eyebrow. "That's a pretty fancy word for such a proposition…"

Merle nodded his head and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I like crossword puzzles," Merle said. "Got me a right damn big vocabulary…an' I reckon if me bringin' some pretty lady nachos she liked ta eat…on a night that both a' us was just happenin' ta be lookin' for a lil' damn comp'ny…was one a' my damn clues…I'd have ta try fortuitous in the damn blank 'fore anythin' else."

Andrea smiled and picked up the fresher of her drinks, sucking down the fruity beverage. Merle looked at it and chuckled after a moment.

"What?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He shook his head, but he took a breath and answered the question.

"Was just laughin' 'bout'cha drink," he explained.

Andrea looked at it. They were a Salty's specialty…came in two flavors…and nearly everyone she knew loved them. They were beyond popular.

"What's wrong with my drink?" She asked defensively.

Merle shook his head.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with that shit," he said. "Was just laughin' 'cause my brother…he pissed off his damn lady friend one night…got him a good damn bath in one a' them drinks…fucker smelled like a damn pirate for damn near twenty four hours."

Andrea laughed at the story. That was one of the hazards of dating at a place like Salty's…you piss off the wrong kind of woman and you might very well find yourself wearing their beverage.

"You weren't hoping for a bath, were you?" Andrea asked. "Because I hate to waste good alcohol…"

Merle chuckled and shook his head.

"Nah…I've had my share of soaks in Captain fuckin' Morgan…but I try ta stay away from that shit…'sides…this here's my good shirt," Merle said, tugging slightly at the fabric of the pale yellow golf shirt he was wearing.

"It's a nice shirt," Andrea said, smiling. "Looks soft…"

Merle nodded and looked at her with something of a glimmer in his eye again.

"Play ya damn cards right…I just might let'cha sleep in it," he said with a wink.


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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When Daryl woke up, he couldn't remember where he'd tossed his phone the night before. He was always losing the damn thing and forcing Merle to call it. It was too small to keep up with.

But the night before, he'd been using it.

He'd texted Carol the moment he got home…not wanting to be accused of forgetting…to remind her that he'd had a good time.

And when she hadn't texted back twenty minutes later…he might have texted her again to make sure that the first text went through. Sometimes those damn cellular phones were tricky, after all.

And she'd texted him back…yes she'd gotten the first text…and yes she'd had a great time too and look at him remembering to text. And then there were other things there…some kind of code…and he hadn't understood it, but he'd figured he could ask Merle's ass about it since Merle was a lot more into the whole texting thing…he got out more, he dated more, and he spent more of his time sending damn kissy faces and shit back and forth through the messages that Daryl felt like he was doing good with if he got basic words crammed into it.

Because the real problem, he argued, was that they made the buttons too damn small for his fingers…although Merle argued that his fingers were bigger than Daryl's and therefore his argument didn't hold much water.

Apparently, according to Merle, it was all about how damn much you wanted to do it…how much it was worth to you.

And it was worth a whole damn lot to Daryl at the moment to learn all the codes that he had to learn because he was trying to figure out what the hell was going on with Carol.

He was trying to figure out how she felt…and he was still trying to figure out how he felt…and if the damn code in the text message was a key to that…then he was willing to embarrass himself and let Merle read the shit.

After turning the blanket on his bed over without finding the phone…and after checking on and around the nightstand, taking a moment to think of himself as a pig for all the garbage that was collected there…Daryl remembered that he'd carried the phone with him to get a soda before bed…and he'd likely left it on the counter.

He got out of the bed and slipped down the hall, relieving himself in the bathroom, and running cold water over his face before he slipped farther down the hall in the kitchen.

When he walked into the kitchen, though, he wasn't expecting to see what he saw. The very first thing he saw was ass…sticking out of the refrigerator…a woman's ass…and she had no idea he was there because he was pretty sure he didn't have permission to know she was wearing pink lace panties yet.

He considered backing gracefully down the hallway, as quietly as he could, and waiting until he heard Merle stirring to come back…but she turned to quickly and her scream and the fact that she barely kept from dropping the food in her arms let him know quickly that she hadn't been expecting him to be there at all.

"Jesus! I'm sorry!" Daryl declared as the woman simultaneously seemed to try to decide between shuffling the food the she was holding and tugging down Merle's shirt to cover herself.

But then, she stopped, the shock passing, and stared at him.

"Merle didn't tell me…he didn't say…" she said, but then her voice trailed off and she simply returned to staring at Daryl. She never did tell him what Merle didn't tell her.

And Daryl felt like, since she wasn't wearing pants and the shirt was pulled up, he should look away…but it was difficult to look away from half naked women in your kitchen first thing in the morning…even if you did have a pretty good idea that they were sleeping with your brother.

He should say something…and he knew that. Unfortunately, the only words that offered themselves up to him were probably the dumbest ones that he could have uttered.

"That's Merle's favorite shirt," Daryl said. "Gets kinda pissy if ya touch it…"

The blonde woman chuckled, obviously more at ease than Daryl was despite the fact that she was so scantily clad in front of a stranger.

"Yeah…he knows I'm wearing it," she said cooly. "You want breakfast too?"

Merle interrupted the whole scene by coming from his bedroom, whistling some damn tune or another, and he stopped just in the doorway from the living room, chuckling.

"Well…see ya met," Merle said.

Daryl glanced at Merle with some question.

Merle liked women…he liked women a lot. He always had. He had, however, always treated them as something almost like vampires. They were gone by the time that the sun came up. They were not…as was this blonde…something that you saw half dressed, wearing his clothes, and getting the makings of breakfast out of the refrigerator.

Merle just smiled at Daryl and rolled his eyes back toward the blonde who was putting the food down on the counter by the sink…and consequently by Daryl's phone now that he'd spotted it...completely unbothered by her wardrobe.

"Andrea…this here's my brother, Daryl," Merle said. "Daryl…this here's Andrea."

Andrea looked at Daryl and tipped her head to the side. She was wearing an expression that didn't make Daryl entirely comfortable and he wasn't sure why. It was an expression that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He cleared his throat.

"Nice ta meet ya," he said, trying not to look at her bare legs.

She smiled, not even pretending that she didn't let her eyes drop down his entire body. She slowly brought them back up to meet his.

"Nice to meet you," she said. "I've…seen you around."

Daryl glanced back at Merle who was watching the whole thing like it was something unfolding on television, leaning now against the wall with a smug smirk on his face.

"Andrea's makin' some damn breakfast," Merle said, as though Daryl would have wondered what the hell the woman might be thinking of doing with the eggs and bacon that she had.

"She got pants?" Daryl asked finally.

Andrea chuckled.

"She's got pants…and she's got ears…and a brain too," Andrea said. "I just figured it could wait…it wasn't like you missed the show…"

Daryl started to mutter something of an apology, feeling his face burn, but Andrea turned too quickly and walked past Merle, heading back toward his bedroom.

"The fuck is that?" Daryl whispered at his brother.

Merle chuckled.

"That there? That there lil' brother is what the hell ya call a woman…thought you knew that shit by now…" Merle responded, going to the refrigerator and getting out the orange juice container. He took it and a glass from the cabinet directly to the table and sat down. "Yessir…yessir…that there's a wo-man…" Merle declared to his juice with a chuckle.

Daryl got the distinct feeling…for just a fleeting moment…that he needed to go back to bed and start this day over again. Clearly there were things going on that he simply wasn't awake enough to understand.

He didn't say anything, though, he just crossed the kitchen and picked up his phone, holding it in his hand without looking it because now the blonde, obviously wearing her clothes from the night before, was walking back toward the kitchen, and back toward him.

"Your phone?" She asked, gesturing with her pointer finger toward the phone in his hand.

Daryl nodded his head.

"It was going off earlier," she said. "Excuse me?"

Daryl realized he was blocking the area she intended to cook in so he sat down at the table, still marveling over the fact that one of Merle's women was still there in the morning…and making breakfast…and Merle was looking at her like she was fresh instead of like she was a woman that he'd already been with, and therefore, would have likely lost interest in.

Daryl shook his head against it all and flipped the phone open to reveal that he had a new text message.

And his hear rattled around inside of his chest until he almost laughed at himself.

This woman did something to him and he was flat out fucking lying to himself every time he tried to pretend she didn't…because he'd never been so excited to get a message in his life. Not from any woman…not even from Janice, and he'd gone on a personal mission to convince himself that Janice was the perfect woman.

He clicked the button to open the little digital envelope and read it to himself.

_We all have bad nights…drinks at 6? -Beth_

"Fuck," Daryl muttered.

And simultaneously he had the attention of both Merle and Andrea because he hadn't realized the word would slip out of his mouth in verbal form.

"Problems, Daryl?" Merle asked. "With ya lady friend?"

Andrea, cracking eggs into a bowl, turned her body toward him like she had some grand interest in this conversation…though he didn't know why she would care what the hell was going on with him.

"Got a damn message from that blonde the other night," Daryl muttered.

Merle chuckled.

"Well hell…woulda thought'cha ass'd be happy 'bout that shit…" Merle said.

"Blonde? What blonde?" Andrea asked.

Daryl looked at her wrinkled his brow.

"I'm sorry…do I fuckin' know you?" He asked.

And as soon as he said it, he really wished he hadn't. He didn't know this woman and he didn't know how she'd come to take up residence in his kitchen for the moment…but he also hadn't meant to be a jackass.

"Sorry," he muttered quickly.

Andrea just laughed.

"You seem good at saying that," she said. "Good at putting your foot in your mouth…and you don't know me…I suppose…but I know you."

"How you think you know me, anyway?" Daryl asked, having forgotten momentarily about his annoyance with the phone in his hand.

"The BellaRose downtown? The coffee shop?" Andrea asked, glancing over her shoulder where she was now cooking bacon in one of the pans that they kept on the stove. "My best friend owns the place…"

Daryl felt his stomach flip.

"Ya best friend?" He asked.

He shot Merle a look, but his brother was now wearing an expression that said he might be in the same place that Daryl was in earlier…where very little made a lot of sense at the moment.

"Mmmhmmm…" Andrea hummed. "How do you like your scrambled eggs? Hard or soft cooked?"

Daryl swallowed.

"Soft…" he responded. "Carol's ya best friend?"

He looked at Merle again but Merle had obviously taken a vow with himself not to make eye contact with Daryl at the moment.

"Hard, Merle?" Andrea asked, raising an eyebrow at Merle.

He nodded his head…whatever she said was fine, obviously.

"Who's the blonde?" Andrea asked.

Daryl assumed her lack of an answer was a confirmative answer about Carol being her best friend…but this changed the dynamic entirely of his kitchen, his breakfast, and his conversation.

One thing he had learned throughout his life was that women could be awful peculiar about their friends…and in particular the ones they bothered to describe with the adjective "best" attached to them.

He cleared his throat.

"Just some woman…met her at the bar…give her my number 'fore I knew she was 'bout the most boring damn person on the planet…" Daryl said.

"Was that the woman you were talking to the night Carol saw you?" Andrea asked.

Daryl knew now that she wasn't lying.

He grunted his confirmation.

"So why are you bummed about her message? If you were talking to her in Salty's…" Andrea asked, passing plates of eggs to both Merle and Daryl.

Merle, who had opted for silence entirely, got out of his chair and went to get the ketchup out of the fridge.

"Was thinkin' it might be another message from Carol…" Daryl said. "Ain't wanted ta talk ta the blonde…"

He felt like he couldn't lie to this woman. He felt like she already had more information about him than he could even imagine, and it was a little nerve wracking.

"So why don't you do something about it?" Andrea asked, going back to the pan on the stove and beginning to transfer bacon to a plate.

"Like what?" Daryl asked.

Andrea finished transferring the bacon in silence. She brought the plate over and pulled up a chair like she owned the place…and Daryl wasn't telling her she didn't and obviously Merle wasn't telling her she didn't either.

"Let me see your phone," Andrea said, waving her hand at Daryl.

He held the phone in his hand for a moment…wondered if he should give it to her…and then finally passed it over as she repeated the command.

She looked at it, toyed with it for a moment, and smiled at it with something of an almost evil grin. She continued to play with a moment longer, Daryl growing a little nervous at whatever she was doing, and then finally he interrupted her.

"Ya gonna give me my damn phone back? What the hell ya doin' anyway?" He asked.

Andrea looked at him, her expression changing from the one she'd used toward the phone into a soft smile. She offered the phone to Daryl and he took it.

"I just sent…what was her name? Beth? I just sent her a little message…saying that she's real cute and you think she's just groovy…but you've gotten…involved…" Andrea said.

She tipped her head to the side and her smile broadened as her eyebrows changed positions.

"Would you say that's accurate?" She asked.

Daryl shot another look at Merle who was putting so much ketchup on his eggs to keep from looking at anyone that he was damn near going to need a spoon to eat it with before long.

Daryl swallowed and nodded his head slightly, not committing himself to verbal communication.

Andrea smiled and nodded her head at him before she reached and loaded her plate with eggs up with some of the bacon.

"Eat up," she said, biting a piece of the bacon. "Oh…and that's cute…Carol only ever bothers to type faces into her messages when she's in a really good mood. Well done."

Daryl didn't quite know how to respond, but he accepted quietly some of the bacon when Andrea picked up the plate and thrust it toward him with one hand, taking some of the strips off and dropping them on Merle's plate with the other.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. Next chapter up will be a date night. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"I have an hour and a half…that's all the free time I get today…this is lunch and breakfast and I fucking swear that if you put your hand over here again I'm going to stab you with a fork!" Alice declared to Andrea.

Andrea just laughed it off and Carol laughed at it as she put the coffee cup down in front of Andrea.

"Do you know what you want, Andrea?" Carol asked.

"You to sit your ass down and tell me about Daryl," Andrea said. "Really…I'm not eating…I'm harassing Alice…but I'm not eating. I have a late lunch date later. He's coming by after he finishes…whatever it is that he was doing today."

Carol sighed and sat.

"I've only got a few minutes," she declared, glancing between Andrea that…and she always noticed things…was spooning actual sugar into her coffee and Alice who was frantically chewing her way through her salad like a rabbit on steroids…something normal for her when she was working shifts that kept her holed up in the hospital too long.

"What do you want me to say? There's nothing to say about Daryl," Carol said. "I want to know about this guy that you're seeing…"

Carol tapped the table.

This guy that Andrea was seeing…and seeing might be a generous word for it but Carol wasn't sure what word to really use…was something of a mystery. She'd spent a night with him…and the following day…and now she was having lunch with him.

Regardless, though, he was a welcomed mystery because there was a breath of life or something about Andrea…and she was using sugar again…and most of all, he wasn't Shane Walsh.

Andrea shook her head.

"You first…you spill," Andrea said.

A smile crawled across her lips.

"I saw you, Carol," Andrea added. "Looking at your phone with little hearts in your eyes…I know that look."

Carol smiled, more at Andrea than at the situation. She shook her head.

"It's nothing…we're going out again…that's all," Carol said.

"Out where?" Andrea asked.

"Dinner…" Carol offered.

"You heterosexuals and your mating rituals are fascinating," Alice declared around her mouth full of salad. "I mean really…you could eat until you died…"

Carol laughed.

"And how's Sadie?" Carol asked.

Alice smiled, her mouth full, and finished chewing up what she had. She swallowed it down and washed her mouth out with the water she was drinking before she bothered to answer.

"She's fan-fucking-tastic," Alice declared. "I'm serious…I always poo-pooed the whole Uhauling thing…made fun of it…but seriously? Right now? I'm one date away from showing up at her house with my own."

"Uhauling?" Andrea asked.

Alice snorted.

"OK…see…in the lesbian world there's this joke that when we date…we kinda get too damn excited, you know? We go…hey the first date was pretty good…and then the next thing you know, the time for the second date is there and the chick you're seeing is outside your house with a Uhaul because you're moving in together," Alice said. "Hence…we call it Uhauling. And it's disgusting…and it's one reason I hate the idea of dating…and I'm so totally there with this woman."

Alice laughed at herself and Carol laughed too because she'd heard Alice already rave before about Uhauling. Apparently something similar had happened with one of the last women she'd dated in that by the time they were on their third date, the woman had started verbally redecorating Alice's house…the idea of which had led her to break up with the woman, stressing the fact that she simply couldn't handle someone that hardcore.

"Uhauling, huh?" Andrea mused. "I like that idea…some straight people are just as bad, though. Except we're sneakier about it…don't show up with the Uhaul, that's too much…you have to do it slow."

Carol hummed at her and made a face and Andrea laughed.

"What? It's true! Admit it! First it's the toothbrush…you know…because I have to brush my teeth and you like it when my breath smells better than…cow shit or something…and then it's the drawer," Andrea said. She nodded her head, agreeing with herself. "It's the clean out the drawer…for my underwear…a change of clothes…pajamas…"

"And then the Uhaul," Alice declared.

They were interrupted when Michonne came in a few moments later and sat down across the table from Carol. She sighed when she sat and then looked around at all three of them.

"What? What's happening? Why does everyone look like they're in such a good mood?" Michonne asked.

Carol smiled.

"We were just talking about Uhauling…and about Alice's new squeeze…and Andrea was just about to tell us about her mystery man," Carol declared.

"But not until Carol tells us how she feels about the man whose text messages put little hearts in her eyes…" Andrea singsonged back at her.

"Ulgh…" Michonne declared. "Seroiusly…why are you so cheerful about this? You're all that happy to be getting laid?"

"Says the woman who's married and understands nothing of our sorrows," Alice said.

"Believe me…if you were married, you wouldn't be getting laid all that often either," Michonne declared. "And…if you're married…it comes with a price tag. There's never just sex for the hell of it…it's always like what am I exchanging this for again?"

Carol got up from the table at the same time that Alice did and Michonne and Andrea both stared at them.

"What? I mention my sex life and everybody leaves?" Michonne asked.

Carol chuckled.

"I've got to get back to work…" she offered.

Alice nodded her head.

"Me too…I'm probably going to be late already if I don't hit traffic just right…but I'll call you when I get off and you can tell me all about whatever's happening…or not happening…in your bedroom," Alice offered.

Michonne shook her head and Alice disappeared, almost jogging out of the café.

"I'm getting back to work now…since you won't tell me about your man and Jacqui's making faces at me," Carol said, mostly directing her statement to Andrea.

Andrea made a kissing face at her.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know…" Andrea offered. "Just as soon as you spill some good beans about Daryl…"

Carol rolled her eyes and walked off after getting Michonne's order. She went straight to the back and put it in before she started bussing some of the tables that had been cleared out to make room for the later lunch crowds that would start trickling in.

Carol didn't know what to tell Andrea about Daryl because she honestly didn't know what to think of it herself.

Daryl did something to her…for whatever reason he was exciting to her. She almost felt like, when she got a text message from him, that she was buzzing as much as her phone was and that was something that she hadn't felt in a very long time.

In fact, she wasn't sure she'd ever felt that way, really.

Even when she'd first been dating Ed, and there had been an excitement there as she planned out her future shamelessly in her head…it had been a different kind of excitement.

And maybe it's because she wasn't planning any kind of future at all with Daryl. She was barely letting herself plan the dinner that they were going to have together tonight when he picked her up…tonight when he told her to dress "relaxed" because they weren't going to go out "fancy like".

It would only be their second date, or their second "official" date, but already Carol was feeling more enthusiastic about the man than any of the men that she'd dated in the years since her marriage had crashed and she'd picked up the pieces of her broken life.

Most of the men that she'd gone out with were well to do…they were often businessmen. Some were widowed, some were divorced, some were confirmed bachelors claiming, although not really meaning it, that they were looking for a woman of just her caliber to change their ways.

But all of them had one thing in common…they were nice enough, but they weren't exciting.

And she'd created for herself the five date rule. She wasn't sure where the theory had come from, exactly, but she'd created it for herself as a sort of guidebook to follow…something to let her know that she was behaving as she should. A man should go out with her…date her and hold her interest…for five dates.

During those five dates the only physicality allowed to him was simple enough. It was innocent. Kisses…hand holding…he could put an arm around her, guide her with his hand on the small of her back if a situation called for such a thing. Maybe…and this was usually even with her battling a little with herself, she might allow a kiss to go farther and become something of a shameless making out session better suited to teenagers grappling for feels in the back of a car than full grown adults.

But before he got any farther than that, he had to hold his own through five dates.

And very few men made it through the five dates.

And even fewer, as evidenced by her life, made it farther than that.

But Daryl had her doubting her five date rule. He had her questioning it, particularly at night…particularly when she'd already found herself thinking of him when she'd usually used images of men she didn't even know…men who had crossed her television screen and tickled her fancy for one reason or another…to fill a little time and space inside her mind.

He had her doubting if she would make him hold out for five dates, or even for two…and he had her doubting if she even wanted him to or if she thought her own rule was a silly rule.

She justified even the thoughts she scolded herself about with the fact that he'd already slept with her…twice now…so what was she really striving to prove?

And his text messages did make her smile.

He'd taken her teasing about texting and calling to heart. So, even though so little time had passed since their first and only official date, she had heard from him so many times she couldn't count.

There had been one late night phone call where neither had really known what to say beyond the mechanical recounting of their boring workday and the clarification of the fact that there would be a second date.

And there had been countless text messages. Simple ones…ones that wouldn't have impressed anyone and probably shouldn't have impressed Carol.

_Mornin._

_Went to hardware store. Broke molding._

_How's ya day?_

_Ya busy?_

They were the simplest messages in the world…and really Carol knew no more about the man now than she'd known about him before…and he knew no more about her…but something about those text messages made her light up a little when she felt her phone vibrate and she knew that there was just as good a chance that it was him as there was that it was Andrea, Alice, Michonne, or Jacqui.

As Carol unloaded the tray of dishes onto the counter in the back and went to take an order from a couple who had just sat down, she felt her phone vibrate and she smiled to herself, disguising it as a smile offered to the couple whose order she promised would be ready soon.

She dropped off the order and leaned against the counter, flicking the button on her phone to reveal the message hidden behind the envelope icon.

_Marry him already…just thinking it's him makes you smile like sunshine. _

Carol was thrown off for a moment and then she read the name above the message…the name she hadn't even paid attention to because her mind had already decided that it was Daryl…and maybe he was telling her about a leaky faucet or maybe he was telling her where they were going…before she'd ever even virtually opened the tiny envelope.

Carol chuckled to herself and took a few steps forward, craning her head around. She made a face at the two women who were laughing, Michonne leaning against Andrea's shoulder, obviously having just read the message that Andrea had sent from her phone.

Carol shook her head and texted back as quickly as she could.

_You meddle too much._

She watched as Andrea manipulated her phone, read the message, and showed it to Michonne before smiling at Carol and waving.

Michonne took the phone from Andrea and Carol snorted a moment later when she felt the vibration in her hand again and didn't have to wonder this time who the message was from.

_Meddling in friendship is love._

Carol smiled again directed the smile toward both of the women who were still watching her, though Michonne had returned back to her food.

Carol made a big show of turning, then, and going back to work, but Andrea's words ran through her head. He did make her smile. She didn't understand it…and it worried her because in the back of her mind she remembered him with the blonde at the bar and her mind warned her he might simply be one of those men who used you for just as long as you were entertaining, and might not even last five whole dates…but there was something about Daryl that made her smile.

Even if it was in spite of herself and in spite of all that she had been taught to think was proper and befitting of a lady.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: Here we go…a part from date number two. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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The place that Daryl had chosen to take Carol was something of a burger joint that was two towns over. It was one of those kooky little themed restaurants that was based on being something of a time warp. Carol had seen in a billion times…she liked shopping at the mall in town…and more than once she'd voiced her desire to go there just for the novelty of it.

But typically she was with one or more of the Glory Gals and she always got shot down in favor of the Mediterranean restaurant that was just a little farther down in the same strip.

But Daryl had decided to take her there and hadn't told her anything about it until they pulled into the parking lot and he killed the engine of his truck.

And Carol knew that she really shouldn't be so excited about the place…after all it was just a burger joint that typically looked to be overflowing with teenagers, one of the principal arguments her friends made against going there…but she was excited simply because she'd always been curious about, burgers and fries or not.

"You're sure you want to go here?" Carol asked, trying not to seem overly enthusiastic.

Daryl smiled at her and nodded his head.

"I'm the one that brung us here, ain't I?" He asked.

"There's probably a lot of teenagers here…" Carol said.

Daryl chuckled.

"So? They gotta eat too…come on…" Daryl said.

He got out of the truck and Carol wondered if she should get out and join him, but he'd been adamant about opening her door at the house so she sat and waited to see if he would come around. And he did, opening her door and offering her a hand.

"Ya like this place alright?" Daryl asked, furrowing his brow slightly.

Carol nodded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

"I've never been," she admitted. "But I wanted to go…it looks interesting? Don't you think? It's cute…"

Daryl chuckled.

"Cute is good?" He asked.

Carol nodded.

"Cute is good," she confirmed.

He chuckled again.

"Well…hell…let's go then…have somethin' cute ta eat…" Daryl said.

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Daryl was more nervous at this date than he'd been at the first.

He was starting, or so he thought, to really like Carol. He was beginning to admit it to himself. There was something about her that he just liked being around…he liked thinking about her.

She smiled a lot and she crinkled her nose when she smiled. And it was cute…though Daryl hadn't much thought of himself as being someone who liked "cute" things before.

There was something about her that he wasn't used to from the women that he'd dated before. It was something almost unapologetic. Even when she did apologize for things, it was almost insincere…and not in a bad way. It was more like she was simply comfortable being herself…and that in itself was almost unnerving for Daryl. Because if she was comfortable with herself, that meant she was probably a lot less "needy" than some of the women that he had been with.

Daryl had a bit of a churning in his stomach that once he had begun to like her…like with most anyone he had dated before…he was already setting the workings into motion for the whole thing to fall apart. As long as he didn't give a shit one way or another about someone, it seemed that they never had any problem with him and he never had any way of fucking things up. He just didn't care…and whatever happened, simply happened.

But as soon as he did start to care, that was where the trouble came in. It was then that it seemed that he went so damn far as to trip over his own damn feet constantly. He was sure, in fact, that his caring had been what the hell had caused every other relationship he thought might go somewhere to crash and burn into a fiery pile of fuck up.

Andrea had told him about texting Carol…she'd told him to text her every time that he thought about her…even if it was just to say that he'd thought about her.

And to him it seemed like too damn much…it was something he'd never in a million years do on his own…but for that reason he'd decided to give it a damn try. Because, until now, his way of doing things had landed him situations like the Janice fiasco, so obviously he wasn't doing too damn good of a job.

He didn't even know what the hell to text her about either…he didn't have a damn clue. He didn't feel like he was all that interesting or that he had any great shit to say…but he'd texted her any damn thing he could think of to fill the imaginary quota he had in his head from the blonde's suggestions.

He figured Andrea might have some damn clue about this shit…she had to have something up her sleeve. After all, in the couple of days she had known Merle she had him almost literally eating out of her hand and bouncing around the damn house like Pepé fucking Le Pew…so Daryl figured she had some damn idea what she was doing when it came to relationships…because short of witchcraft he couldn't figure out what would ever get Merle to behave in such a way.

And she had told him about this little ass burger joint. It was all painted up and dolled up to look like something straight out of Happy Days. He would have never even noticed the place, given the fact that he rarely ate out and even then his food tended to come more often in bags and boxes than anything else…but Andrea said that it was somewhere Carol wanted to go…it was somewhere she'd been wanting to go for a while. And it might win him some super ass brownie points if he took her there and he played the gentleman for the evening…feeding into whatever fantasy the garishly painted up diner might offer.

But once they sat down, and she was all smiles and looking around, Daryl had started to get nervous because conversation, whether or not his smooth ass text messages conveyed it, didn't always come easily to him…especially not in the absence of alcoholic beverages.

"So…ya like it in here?" Daryl asked once they'd ordered.

Carol reached over and fingered the napkin dispenser on the table that was painted up to look like a tiny jukebox.

She nodded.

"I do…it's cute…I don't know…I like these kinds of things," she said. "Time travel…maybe?"

Daryl chuckled.

"Like them places ya see on the television?" He asked. "Them places ya go an' they got like knights an' shit an' it's just like bein' in a castle?"

He'd seen commercials for those things. He'd never been to one…the closest one that they had was about three hours away and it didn't make sense to him to drive three hours to pretend he was in some kind of castle a long damn time ago. Besides, Merle said that it was just so you'd spend a whole damn lot of money to eat chicken with your fingers…and they ate with their hands for free at home.

Carol's eyes got wide, though, at the mention of it.

"Oh! I've seen those commercials!" She declared. "It looks like fun…the food, the show…I keep saying that I'm going to go to one…"

She stopped talking suddenly and sat back in the booth, the excitement dropping off her face a little. At first it concerned Daryl that something had happened that he hadn't seen take place…but then he figured out that maybe she just didn't think he'd be as excited about it as she was. And it was true, it wasn't all that damn exciting…but he liked the way her eyes flashed when she got excited.

He chuckled.

"Maybe…" he said, swallowing against his nerves at even suggesting such a thing, "maybe one day…we drive ta the one…they's one 'bout three hours from here…I looked it up one time…maybe we drive there one day? Go an' see what the hell it's all about?"

Carol looked at him for a moment and Daryl felt his stomach churn.

Maybe it was too early to be suggesting future dates. He was probably jumping the gun…and Merle had warned him in the past that sometimes he just got too damn anxious in his pursuit of finding something that he had in mind for his life.

He swallowed again and considered apologizing for even suggesting the whole thing…since likely it would be too much for just a drive…and they might even have to get a hotel room or something…and he wasn't sure this woman was ever planning on sleeping with him again after she'd caught him drinking with that damn blonde at the bar.

She saved him, though, by smiling and nodding her head.

"I'd like that," she offered. "One day…when the weather's nice? Some weekend when it would be fun to take a road trip…have you ever been on a road trip?"

Daryl scratched at his face and thanked the stars above when he saw the food coming. He wasn't even all that hungry, but at least having food in front of him gave him something to do and having something to do made it easier for him to appear a lot less nervous than he really was.

When the waitress put the food down, interrupting them, Daryl waved his hand at her.

"I wanna shake too," he said. "Can't come ta a place like this an' not drink a shake, right?" He asked, looking out the corner of his eye at Carol.

The waitress smiled at him and rattled off far more information about milkshakes than he ever needed to know in his life. He cleared his throat, her speech finally over.

"Wanna strawberry shake," he said finally.

He glanced at Carol.

"What'cha want?" He asked.

She shook her head at him.

"I don't need a shake," she said.

He raised his eyebrows at her and chuckled. Ah, yes…the never ending battle between women and food they know their asses want to eat. He'd never been interested in the battle. Merle had told him from an early age that if a woman didn't enjoy food…really enjoy it…she wasn't going to be the type to enjoy sex. She'd hold back too damn much. And Daryl didn't know if it was true, but it was something he always held onto.

"What kinda shake ya want?" He asked, stressing out his words so that she would understand her only option was to name one of the fifty five flavors that the young girl had recited in less than a minute. He wasn't leaving her the option of backing out of the creamy dessert masquerading as part of the meal.

Carol smiled and he could have sworn she blushed a little.

"I'll have strawberry too," she said to the waitress.

The girl smiled, nodded, and walked away and they started into their food. Daryl watched Carol for a moment as she took a bite of her burger…a burger that was big enough he doubted he'd finish his…and then she did something of a little dance, rocking back and forth.

He chuckled to himself.

"Good?" He asked.

"Mmmhmmm," she hummed through her mouthful.

Daryl took a bite of his, decided to forego the dance, but did hum his approval of the burger so that she wouldn't feel out of place.

And it must have worked, because she smiled at him before she reached for the ketchup and stared to fight with it.

Daryl reached over, taking the bottle from her, and showed her the better way to get ketchup out of it, sliding a dollop onto her plate with his butter knife.

"So…road trip?" Carol asked. "Did you ever?"

Daryl shrugged.

"I mean…I been on trips goin' places," he said. "What'cha mean road trip?"

Carol chuckled.

"Every year…me and a couple of my friends…we take one weekend and we go on a road trip," Carol said. "We never go very far…but it's just…it's a road trip. We listen to music…we sing off-key…someone's feet get put on someone else…and we spend one weekend somewhere, just hanging out."

Daryl chuckled.

"Ya mean…you an' Andrea?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at Carol.

Something like shock and confusion registered on her face for a moment and she looked at him while slowly chewing the fry that she was holding in her hand.

He chuckled again.

"Turns out…" Daryl said. "That…uh…I met this woman…said she's ya best friend…an' it turns out…she knew me 'fore I even knew her…Andrea?"

Carol finished chewing the now meticulously masticated fry and swallowed, reaching for her Coke in the absence of their milkshakes to wash it down.

"Andrea's one of my best friends," Carol said, nodding her head. She smiled, a little confusion still on her face. "But how do you know her?"

Daryl smiled.

"Seems she mighta done gone an' domesticated the wild and wooly Merle…my brother," Daryl said. "I…uh….met her in my kitchen whilst she was makin' breakfast."

He didn't know how Carol would react. She rolled her eyes to the side like she was thinking, though, and then she dissolved into laughter.

"Andrea's…dating your brother?" Carol asked.

Daryl smiled when he saw this was apparently not something she was going to be bothered by.

"Yep…would seem so," Daryl said. "Come up that she knew ya…"

"I guess it's a small world," Carol declared.

Daryl nodded his head.

"Damn sure is," he commented.


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: Well…you asked…and I took off working on the painful grading I was doing a little early to prepare for this evening (though I'm not expecting much from the episode), so I got you a chapter out.**

**And for those of you who want to see certain…types of scenes in stories…here you go…LOL**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"I'm so full…I can hardly breathe," Carol declared.

Really she was full…but she wasn't that full. She'd had enough sense to stop eating long before she got to that point and as a result had at least enough food in a box for a meal of the same size the next day.

Really she was looking for something to talk about…anything really to distract her mind away from her thoughts that were making her less-than-declared full stomach turn a little.

She was measuring, mentally, the distance between where they were and her house. She had that long…that far…to make her decision. She could either talk herself out of it entirely or she could talk herself into it completely…but that was how long she had to do it.

And her brain was working overtime to do both simultaneously because nothing about her was entirely committed, one way or the other.

Daryl was quiet, he hummed his agreement to her statement, but other than that he was keeping his eyes mostly on the road, his left elbow perched in the window of the truck while he bit at his thumb in a manner that made Carol wonder how it didn't hurt and why he'd keep doing such a thing.

She might have thought it was unusual too, given the fact that he'd been texting her so regularly, that in her presence he was mostly quiet, only starting bits of conversation here and there and responding to what she said. Except…over dinner he'd come clean.

He'd admitted, with something of a sheepish expression, that the text messages had come at Andrea's bidding…and that she had also tipped him off on the restaurant because he didn't know what Carol might like or where he might take her that would be something different.

He'd admitted that he wasn't naturally that chatty…and that often he preferred silence over trying to come up with conversation himself because he felt he didn't have that much to offer in the way of idle chat. He'd admitted that, when it came to dating, he wasn't very creative…he didn't usually think of great dates and wonderful scenarios…he was much more apt to simply go to dinner, watch a movie, or do whatever was most obvious and plainly in front of his face.

He'd admitted it all like he'd expected her to get up from the table and to call the whole date off. He'd worn the sorry and sullen expression of someone who has done something so completely wrong that they expected to be hit with a shoe…or perhaps to wear what was left of her strawberry milkshake home like he'd worn her drink home that night.

And Carol wasn't sure if she was supposed to find it atrocious that he'd met Andrea and taken her suggestions for what he might do…how he might act…but she didn't find it as something negative at all.

If anything, it served to fuel a little the mental war that was raging in her head over whether or not she wanted to hold him to her self-imposed five date rule.

Because what it said to her, even if she was reading the whole thing wrong, was that he was trying to impress her. He was actually putting forth some kind of effort to impress her that was so great that he was willing to take whatever advice he could get, especially from a notable source such as Andrea, and he was willing to go outside of his obvious comfort zone to get the job done.

And it did impress her.

By the time that they reached her driveway and Daryl pulled the truck into place in the empty space beside her car, killing the engine, Carol was certain that her heart was pounding against her ribs loudly enough that he could hear it if he put forth the effort and he would most certainly feel it if he were to place a hand there.

Daryl got out of the truck, as he had before, and Carol watched him come around the front of it, chewing now at his lip like he'd been chewing at his thumb earlier, and she forced herself to swallow and tried not to listen to the part of her brain that disagreed with her decision. She would hear enough, probably, out of that part later. It should be quiet for now.

When Daryl had helped Carol out of the truck, she stopped in front of him instead of heading straight for her door. He looked at her, his expression giving nothing away at the moment.

"Daryl…if I asked you to stay the night…would you?" Carol asked.

He narrowed his eyes a second.

"Stay…you want me to stay?" He asked.

Carol smiled, her heart still pounding but the tightness in her chest not giving off as much pressure as just moments before.

"Would you stay the night?" She repeated. "And…I mean…just to be clear…stay the night, not leave and then not speak to me again until I saw you down at Salty's…"

Daryl chuckled and it sounded almost choked. Clearly a nervous laugh and a defense mechanism. Carol knew that she was being extremely forward. She was putting everything out there and she was doing with as little shame as she could, forcing that one pesky part of her mind to be still.

Daryl cleared his throat.

"No," he said. "I mean…yeah…I'd stay the night…but no ta the part about endin' up at Salty's…"

Carol smiled and nodded her head gently at him.

"You might want to bring your food…put it in the fridge?" Carol asked.

Daryl nodded and stood there a moment longer like he hadn't exactly understood what she'd said. She turned, heading to unlock the door and it took him a few minutes to set himself into motion and to get his food out of the truck like she'd suggested before he followed her inside the house.

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Carol's breathing hitched when she felt the rough scratch of his fingertips just under the bottom of her shirt. She kissed the side of his neck, right where her lips were already resting at the moment and then backed away a little, lifting her arms to give him undoubtable permission to take the garment off.

She had allowed them both two drinks each. They'd shared the drinks over nervous and stinted conversation about everything that was as absolutely mundane as the weather because neither of them seemed able, at the moment, to focus on conversation.

They knew what they were there for…and it wasn't really for the idle chatter.

Because, honestly, he'd admitted that he didn't really like coming up with idle chatter…and, honestly, neither did she. She felt she did well when she talked to others…like her friends…who were strong at carrying a conversation along and never letting it drop, but to come up with it all on her own was almost stressful.

So she hadn't allowed that part of the evening to be prolonged too long…there was no need for them both to suffer and the two drinks had loosened them up enough that the first touches began to naturally take place…feeling fluid and organic between them.

He'd rested a hand on her leg, caught a look from her, dared to slide the hand up.

She'd moved closer to him, leaning her body ever so slightly against his so that she felt the warmth radiating from him down her side.

He'd dipped his head closer to her, thought better about it, backed away…and then dipped again.

She'd met him in the second dive of faith and brought their lips together, barely brushing at first, for them to find the way they best fit together.

The kiss had deepened from both sides and his tongue had requested her permission to come to play…and she'd granted it, sliding hers against his.

His fingers had tangled in her hair…and she'd slid hers into his while they kissed until their lips were sore and the kiss had gone from the gentle kissing to panting and biting while their bodies naturally gravitated toward one another.

And now they had moved to the bedroom and her shirt was on the floor, mingling with his, an her body was on fire simply from the playing and the slow passage of time as his fingertips danced around her torso and his tongue and teeth nipped and licked at her neck, shoulders, and collarbone.

And if it was wrong that she'd asked him to stay…if it was the biggest mistake that she might make…if it was going to cause her some kind of pain…then she'd have to apologize to herself tomorrow because tonight her brain felt no sorrow for anything.

Carol unclasped her bra finally and freed herself from it, dropping it to the floor with the shirts that puddled around their bare feet. She reached for Daryl's belt buckle and fumbled with it…worked her fingers into it and then into the button of his pants even as his hands squeezed her breasts and made her moan for the throbbing that was already possessing her body.

She had plans for what she intended to do, as she pushed his pants down, slid his underwear down, and grasped him, but he pulled away from her somewhat and she stopped in her movements…waiting for permission to proceed.

He was breathing hard, but she wasn't going to judge him because she was panting herself. She watched as he stepped out of his pants, kicking them out of the way and she quickly did the same, freeing her second foot with the freed foot just as he came to her and pushed her backwards onto the bed, his mouth coming back to her…his tongue licking her chest just before he found her nipple and bit down on it.

Carol cried out at the shock of it and he came up, looking her in the eyes, his own eyes looking heavier than they had before.

"OK?" He grunted.

"Yeah…" she got out, her voice sounding so unfamiliar.

They battled it out for a while…rolling together in the bed almost like they were playing some kind of elaborate game that neither of them knew the rules to. They let fingers explore…tongues…teeth. And all in almost complete silence except for the randomly whispered word to find out if this sound or that sound…this growl or that moan…meant pleasure or pain…or pleasurable pain.

Carol didn't know how long they played, but when she couldn't take it any longer she gained the upper hand in the rolling and came up over him. She dipped her head, catching his lips with hers once more and tugged his lip with her teeth so that he followed after her, even after she'd released him, searching for more.

And she moved finally, sliding herself down over him, letting out something of a satisfied sigh at the finally achieved feeling and she rolled her hips in the only way that she could think to get what she wanted, selfishly seeking nothing more than the friction between their bodies.

Daryl caught her suddenly around the waist, gasping out at her for the move.

"The hell was that?" He panted.

Carol stopped, feeling afraid that she'd done something wrong.

"What? What was it?" She asked.

"Tell me ya remember what the fuck it was an' do it again," Daryl said.

And Carol almost laughed at the urgency in his voice and the half panicked expression that flitted across his face. She repeated the action and he held tight to her waist, his fingers almost digging into her as he bucked upwards, increasing the friction that she'd sought.

Watching him was fascinating, even as she felt the myriad of sensations washing over her own body, because as he bit his lip, grunted, lost himself in what was happening, there was an intriguing mix of pain and pleasure on his face that was almost entertaining enough to have watched on its own…without the feelings she was sure were making her make probably some less than flattering expressions.

As she felt herself reaching her release, she slipped her fingers down to work herself hard and fast…just the way she wanted and he let her come, holding onto her while she rode out the wave of her orgasm.

And as she crashed down she had no complaint when he quickly changed their positions, almost throwing her against the mattress and roughly pulled her legs into the position that best suited him so he could quickly and roughly bring them back together to find the last strokes he needed to join her in slipping over the edge.

And then when they finally settled, panting and having only moved enough to separate from one another, sweaty slick skin still rubbing in places, Carol closed her eyes and drank in the happiness that she felt for the moment…just in case it was only temporary and hormone induced.

When it came to her five date rule…apparently Daryl made her more impatient than the Tootsie Pop owl had ever been…because she seemed to lack all ability to wait for some kind of reward.

But whether she was hasty or not…she couldn't say, as her breathing started to even out a little and she began the conversation with her body about relinquishing its position to go to the bathroom, that this had been a second date worth complaining about.


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: You are all so great! I know I don't respond to each review and PM personally (sorry about that), but I want you to know that I love and appreciate all of them. They mean a lot to me. And I'm thrilled that you're all enjoying the story as much as I am! **

**Here's another chapter! I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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Daryl woke up the electronic screeching of an alarm clock that might as well have been signaling his death for all the panic the unfamiliar noise caused his sleeping brain. He jolted into wakefulness and the body next to his shifted and rolled and calmed the angry squelching noise.

As Daryl scrubbed his hand across his face, his very first step into being a conscious human being was to notice how comfortable the bed was…it was like he might have imagined sleeping on a cloud might be…and now that the howling noise of the alarm clock was quieted, he really wanted to just close his eyes and go back to sleep.

But the shifting of the mattress reminded him, all at once, that he wasn't at home…he was at Carol's house and he had work.

He'd stayed the night, even though he'd not imagined in the slightest that this would be what he would be doing after going to the themed burger joint with her.

He had imagined that he would take her to the themed restaurant…that he might tell her about Andrea…and that she might not want to talk to him anymore.

After all…he was working on one hell of a track record.

In the short time that he'd known this woman, he'd slept with her drunk twice. One time he'd thought it was a good damn idea to let himself turn into some kind of pathetic, sniveling blob and spend hours telling her about his ex-girlfriend and her shitty sense of what she should do while they were together before he slept with her, left her house in the middle of the night like a robber, and then proceeded to avoid her like the plague for a few days. Then…if that really wasn't good enough, he'd let her catch him talking to a woman in what was really an innocent conversation, but based on his previous actions, he could see how she got the wrong idea, and he'd worn her drink home and considered quitting his job to become a pirate on the high seas.

And now he was basically admitting that almost everything he'd done since then to try to make things right hadn't been his idea at all…it had been spoon fed to him by her best friend.

Yet, here he was, waking up in her bed the morning after their second date…which hadn't been an impressive date since a burger and fries wasn't exactly living high on the hog…and he could remember the night before clearly. And he could remember that it was damn near the best sex…if not the best…that he'd ever had in his life.

But now came the morning after. The horrible truth…the time when the world held up its flashlight and let you really see each other.

Daryl hated the first morning waking up with a woman. It was always…such a letdown. It was like the first damn time you realized that absolutely nothing you believed in as a kid was real. None of the beautiful, mystical things that you thought were true really ever existed. It was a lie.

And the morning after was a lot like that. Because the night before, in all the undoing and the stripping down of clothes, there was still a sense of magic that was brought on by the fog of knowing that sex…no matter how good or how bad…waited on you. And you saw a lot less when your brain was fueled on sex...your eyes even seemed to focus differently. But the morning after? The morning after was when you saw the truth…and not just the truth…but the truth in its rawest form.

Daryl rolled over not long after he felt the weight lift off the mattress that let him know that Carol had gotten up from the marshmallow bed. But when he rolled over, her back was to him and she'd already slipped into a bathrobe…she must have had one nearby.

He watched her from where he lie as she stood, her back to him, contemplating something on a dresser that was nearby. She scratched her fingertips through her hair while she did it, matted here and there from sweat and sleep, and then she turned around, yawning and quickly swinging the other hand up to cover her mouth.

She locked eyes on him a moment, still lying as still as he could be under the cover. She smiled a quick smile at him and rolled her shoulders, stretching out the muscles that were probably as stiff as his were from sleep.

"I have to work," she offered. "I don't know…when you want to get up…"

Daryl pushed himself up on his elbow and looked at her. The lighting wasn't great in the bedroom at this time of the morning, but it was enough to see that she looked different than she had the night before.

After the incredible sex, Daryl had shamelessly let himself pass out…completely giving in to the post-coital slumber without a second thought. And, apparently, she'd at least gotten up at some point and washed her makeup off because she wasn't wearing the typically smudged look that would have made her appear a little like a raccoon.

Daryl didn't let himself study her for long, though.

"Gotta work too…" he offered. "Need ta head home…get ready…"

Carol nodded her head.

"I don't have anything to offer you to wear," she said. "Or else I would say that…you could shower here…I could make a quick breakfast."

But a quick breakfast might be a bit much on the first morning after, Daryl thought to himself. He wasn't good at morning afters…he was much more the kind of man who preferred to leave the night of…he liked avoiding the awkwardness that you never seemed to escape the next day…the awkwardness that was already threatening to wrap both of them up right now.

Daryl sat up and realized that where she had the benefit of a bathrobe at the moment, once he relinquished the blankets, he was as bare assed as the day he was born.

Carol must have noticed a change in his expression or something because she quickly passed him his underwear and he slipped it on under the blanket. He wasn't really modest…or at least not terribly modest…but he liked things to be at least somewhat fair.

"It's OK," he said. "Really need ta roll out…but…"

He stopped.

But what? What came after the but? But I'll call you? But I'll text you? But dinner? But what?

Carol offered him another of the smiles.

"Are we OK?" She asked after a moment, raising her eyebrows at him.

She looked different…without the makeup from the night before and without all the flash and flair that women put on when they were trying to impress you…put on when they were trying to get ready for a date. But even Daryl had to admit that the painting up that she did must be pretty bare bones because although there was a change, there wasn't as dramatic a change in her as what he had seen in some women when he'd lasted through the night.

He swallowed and nodded their head.

They were OK. He knew the question really meant was he regretting the night before. The question was like asking if he thought a mistake had been made…or, maybe in their case, another mistake.

And though he hadn't really thought through all the details about what the first night spent together might mean with Carol…he didn't feel like it had been a mistake.

"We good," he said. "I'ma call ya?"

He slid out of the bed, then, underwear in place, and worked his way into the pants that he'd lost the night before, the belt still hanging in the loops.

And Carol leaned back against the wall nearest her and watched him for a second, a soft smile playing at her lips.

"If you're having second thoughts…" Carol said, her words trailing off.

Daryl pulled his shirt on before he looked at her, gnawing at his lip absentmindedly. She shook her head slightly.

"If you're having second thoughts…that's fine…you don't owe me anything," Carol said.

Daryl furrowed his brow at her, but he wasn't sure how to respond. Having second thoughts? Well…he typically had second thoughts, and third thoughts, and sometimes even fourth and fifth thoughts…but that was mostly owing to the fact that, as Merle had always told him, he tended to overthink things.

But if she meant regrets…he wasn't having those.

He shook his head slightly at her and she smiled softly again, not changing her position other than to catch a sudden interest in the top of the dresser near her and run her hand across it, almost pinching the edge of it.

"If I'll call you means…I won't call you," Carol said, "then let's just say that. OK?"

Daryl chewed his lip again and he nodded his head slightly before he spoke.

"I don't like this shit…ain't gonna lie…I hate the tryin' ta figure out what the hell ta say an' the not havin' a damn clue what ta say…an' ever' damn thing ya do say runs the risk a' gettin' picked all ta hell an' back…" Daryl admitted. "So…"

Carol nodded her head slightly at him, the small glimmer of a smile still playing at her lips. She held her eyes fixed on him.

And Daryl thought about the fact that this woman in front of him was so cool…so calm and collected. The morning afters he'd had before had been pretty different. Usually they were women clawing and pawing all over him like cats in heat…they wanted promises, they wanted reassurance, they wanted declarations of things…of futures…even if they themselves were going to be the ones down the road that threw you under the damn truck because a bigger, better, Tom came walking along.

But Carol was looking at him with a look that was so cool…yet so intense. It was like she was looking right through him. He was like she didn't need to ask him shit or beg for shit because she could see right through him with the same ease that most people could look through a plate glass window.

And it was intimidating and it was intriguing all at the same time.

"How about I ain't gon' call ya…" Daryl said, raking his fingers through his own hair as the only kind of grooming that would take place before he high tailed it back to his house and rushed through his routine to bound out the door. "How about…I got a plumbin' job today…this mornin'…how about I'ma knock off it for lunch? Maybe come 'round that place ya got? You can tell me what the fuck a man eats for lunch in a place like that?"

Carol shifted her weight suddenly from one foot to the other, changing her stance a great deal with the simple move and the small smile that played on her lips before seemed to grow a little before she turned her head, just off to the side, and the smile dropped back to what it had been.

She nodded her head.

"I'd like that," she said. "I'm there all day…what time do you take lunch?"

That really depended on the day and there were many days that Daryl didn't even really take a proper lunch. Usually he just ate in his truck outside wherever he was working…scarfed down a sandwich or, if he was feeling really special, got Axel or Merle to drop him by a sack of fast food when they were out running around because neither of them missed a lunch hour break.

He cleared his throat…he could take lunch whenever he pleased, really…if that was what he wanted to do.

And right now, taking off to eat lunch with her was what the hell he wanted to do.

"Twelve thirty," he said. "I'ma take an hour…but that way I got time ta get someone in there if it turns out the job's too damn messy ta step out on…so yeah…twelve thirty?"

Carol nodded her head.

"Twelve thirty…sounds good," she said. "Do you…want me to walk you out? Or is that…too much?"

Daryl chuckled then. The tone of her voice, despite how awkward the morning was or how he might feel about being in situations like this, made it suddenly feel a lot lighter…and a lot more friendly than it had just moments before.

He couldn't help but smile at her…and he didn't try to help it.

He sucked his teeth at her.

"Might be too much…ya know…neighbors gon' be talkin' as it is…" he teased.

She responded to the change in his voice, or maybe the change in his attitude if one reflected on him physically what he felt internally.

She pursed her lips at him and furrowed her brows in what was obviously feigned concern because the hint of a smile hadn't fully left her face.

"I see what you're saying," she said. "It might be best for you to go…on your own…with dignity."

She paused and raised her eyebrows at him, giving him a bit of a sigh with the changing expression.

"But don't forget your food…you might want it later," she said.

Daryl swallowed, pushing back a little of the smirk that naturally came at her newly adopted tone.

"Ya throwin' me out? Nothin', huh? Not even a lil' peck nor nothin' 'fore I go?" He asked.

Carol smiled a little broader than before and assumed, immediately afterwards, a surprised look.

"You're right! I forgot!" She said.

She stepped toward him and offered her lips up to him and Daryl felt his pulse kick up a notch on its own…despite the fact that it was too early for his blood to be pumping the way it was…and he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her just enough to pull her to him.

He kissed her softly, nothing too much when there was morning breath between them, but he still enjoyed the soft press of her lips to his as she broke the kiss a split second and then immediately returned to it…just a little harder than before.

And when he pulled away, there was nothing more to do than clear his throat, smirk because he couldn't control it, and bid her a good morning as he walked through her house, leaving her to probably shower and do whatever it was she did to transform into the woman that worked at the café, with his shoes in his hands.

He slipped into his shoes in the kitchen, took the food she'd reminded him to take, and slipped out of the house, locking it behind him so that he could go home.

Because he had work to do…even if his mind was caught up somewhere between the night before and the promise of a casual lunch that he normally wouldn't have found all that appealing.


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: Here we go, a little chapter for you all! **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"I'm proud of you," Andrea said as she helped Carol wash dishes.

If Carol was taking lunch off to spend the whole hour…or however much time was allowed to them…with Daryl, then she'd reasoned that she wouldn't take as many breaks throughout the day, since she normally ate whenever the mood struck her in between one job or another, shuffling around the duties of the café. She'd talked Andrea, then, into keeping her company while she worked during her little appearances between clients.

And luckily, Andrea didn't seem to mind as long as she was still allowed to gossip to her heart's content while they worked.

"You're proud of me for…" Carol glanced around and dropped her voice, still not as confident about her recent activities as Andrea was about some of her escapades, "for sleeping with him again?"

Andrea giggled.

"Yes…I am, actually," Andrea responded. "Is that so hard to believe?"

Carol only had to give her a facial expression to communicate her next thought to Andrea.

No, it wasn't hard to believe from Andrea, given that she was very much of the mentality that love…and by love she typically meant sex…should be given freely and regularly to anyone that you desired to give it to.

But it was hard for Carol to fully accept about herself. She was working, she felt, under a different set of rules than Andrea…a different code that she had for herself. She never faulted her friends for anything they did, believing wholeheartedly that everyone should live their lives the best way they saw fit, but for herself she often reverted, no matter how much they preached their various ways of life to her, back to some of the beliefs with which she was raised.

And one of those beliefs was that she shouldn't be proud of the way that she was behaving with Daryl.

But, apparently, Andrea did not see any problem with it at all.

"Listen…you like him, right? I mean you must…you keep going back," Andrea reasoned. Carol simply nodded her head. "And…it didn't even bother you that I told him a few little things…just little itty bitty things that he might want to know about you and what you like…it didn't bother you, right? You still like him?"

"What all did you tell him, anyway?" Carol asked, turning her head toward Andrea quickly and raising an eyebrow at her.

Andrea shook her head and took on her best appearance of innocence.

"Not much…I mean I told him that he should text you…because you would like to know that he was thinking of you when you weren't in front of his face…and I told him about the restaurant…really not much more than that…" Andrea said.

Carol sighed and kept at what she was doing. She caught Andrea glance at her watch.

"If you need to go…" Carol said.

"Not yet…" Andrea responded. "So…anyway…what are you going to talk about over lunch?"

"Why don't you tell me about his brother, huh? I think you know enough about the state of my life," Carol said.

Andrea snickered.

"I like Merle…" Andrea said. "I don't know what there is to tell about him…"

"Try me…anything will do," Carol said.

"OK, he says he's not interested in a relationship," Andrea said.

"And neither are you, right?" Carol challenged.

She had known Andrea for so long now that she knew the things that Andrea said simply because she thought they were the right answers to certain questions that people might have for her. Carol had learned that much of what Andrea said, she didn't entirely mean…but she wasn't going to call her out on it, not flat out, because it seemed to be important to Andrea to uphold certain images she had for herself.

"Not really," Andrea said. "But for a man who's not interested in a relationship…he worries a good deal about the next time he's going to see me…"

"And for a woman not interested in a relationship, you keep seeing him," Carol challenged.

Andrea smiled and hummed something for a response.

"He's sweet…but he doesn't think he is, or he doesn't want to be…it's hard to tell," Andrea said.

Carol thought that it sounded a little familiar. Someone who had a certain image to uphold…someone who had a certain way of being that they'd constructed for themselves, even if anyone who really knew them knew that it was quite the transparent façade.

"And…he's good in bed," Andrea said. "Very…eager to please…"

Carol could hear the smile in Andrea's voice before she ever even turned her head enough to see it. And she was happy to see that smile there. No matter what type of man Merle Dixon might be, he had to be something decent to bring a smile to Andrea's face…and it had been a good while since a man had done that.

"So it's a sex thing?" Carol teased, dropping her voice low enough that Andrea would only be able to barely hear it.

Andrea chuckled.

"You could say that…" Andrea said. "He…"

She stopped and took off the yellow gloves that she was wearing, laying them beside the sink and turned to lean against the counter, crossing her arms before she continued speaking.

"He makes me feel beautiful…desirable…" Andrea said with a shrug.

Carol smiled.

"But you are beautiful," Carol said.

Andrea made a face.

"But it's been a while since I've felt that way…despite what you girls like to say about it…and Merle, well, he makes me feel that way," Andrea said. She sighed and picked at the edge of the counter. "I'm going to hold onto that for a little while…you know? For as…long as I can."

Carol smiled.

"I think you should…when do I get to meet him?" Carol asked.

Andrea raised an eyebrow at Carol and Carol watched her over her shoulder as she ran the sink hose around, washing it out for the last time until the next load of dishes came through.

"Doesn't a lot of that depend on your boyfriend?" Andrea asked. "They are brothers…"

Carol laughed to herself.

That's right…they were brothers. She kept forgetting it. She was too used to having her friends relationships as something to talk about, but ultimately as something that was far removed from her life except for in the rare occasions when they managed to bring them all together. This time, though, they were beginning to create something of a tangled web.

"Maybe…if things keep going well…" Carol offered, "we could have a dinner or something at my house? All four of us?"

Andrea shrugged slightly and nodded.

"Sounds good to me…and I have a feeling I can get Merle to agree," Andrea said. "But…for now…I have to run. Tell me about lunch later?"

Carol nodded and offered Andrea a quick hug in exchange for the dishes she'd done on her break instead of sitting somewhere and relaxing like she was supposed to be doing on the time she scheduled for herself throughout her day.

"I'll call you tonight," Carol said. "Tell you all about it."

"Don't forget," Andrea said. "Tomorrow we have dinner with Alice…she doesn't get a two day leave for like another week and a half…so we shouldn't miss it."

Carol nodded her head.

"Already in my phone," she said. "I'm not going to miss Sadie's welcoming party."

Andrea smiled again, nodded, and disappeared from the back of the café without saying anything else, moving at the normal half jog that she assumed whenever she'd lingered a little too long and was going to risk upsetting a client because they had to wait three whole minutes for her arrival.

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"She's gonna fuckin' kill me…I swear," Merle declared to Daryl.

They were working on a "small plumbing problem." At least that's how the woman who owned the house had described the issue…and that's what they'd believed it to be…right up until they found out that her water pipes in the basement had busted and they were wading through knee deep water.

Daryl was supposed to be on the job with just Axel…but neither of them were nearly as good at plumbing as Merle was, so Merle had traded places with Axel and Axel had gone to look into a small handyman job putting up some molding in another house.

And now Daryl was getting to hear all about Merle's new girlfriend…who Merle wouldn't call a girlfriend, but Daryl could see that he was fonder of her than he'd ever been of anything he'd ever had in his life…and Merle wasn't quick to let go of things that he liked.

"But whoo…whatta way ta go…boy…" Merle declared.

Daryl was mostly keeping quiet. He was there, because he didn't know what else to do, to hand Merle tools and do whatever the man told him to do. This was Merle's show right now because if he'd been left to do the job on his own, he might have simply told the woman that she was wrong for calling them and should have called the straight up plumbers…and maybe an exorcist for whatever had possessed her pipes.

Daryl stood off to the side, waiting for his directions and keeping a check on the clock. Busted pipes or not…he wasn't missing lunch today. Any other day he might have offered to work right through it, but from the looks of this mess, the woman owning the house had put off calling them a pretty decent amount of time…so she couldn't bitch too damn much about him going to eat, and today wasn't a day that he was missing.

"What about your lil' muffin?" Merle asked, coming down from his position and wiping at his face, which was disgusting.

Daryl grunted his response.

"Don't reckon she's gon' kill me…" Daryl said.

Merle chuckled.

"But you ain't come home last night…" Merle said.

Daryl shook his head.

"Ya ever find out how damn old she is?" Merle asked.

Daryl shook his head, again not offering a verbal response for the moment.

"Ya care?" Merle asked with a chuckle.

Daryl echoed the chuckle that time.

"Don't think I do…what about Andrea? She ain't quite the under forty variety, is she?" Daryl asked.

Merle laughed and shook his head emphatically.

"Nah…she ain't that…but hell she's hangin' with the big damn dogs either way…hell…I'ma have ta fuckin' get myself one a' them there Viagra prescriptions ta keep up with her ass," Merle said. "I think more'n her turnin' me down…it's me turnin' her down 'cause I ain't got the stamina I once had."

Daryl laughed.

"Hell…all that runnin' 'round with young girls you done an' you gon' up an' tell my ass that Andrea's gonna put'cha up on blocks?" Daryl asked.

Merle, his breather apparently over, sloshed through the water and went through his toolbox that was resting on one of the steps that led down to the basement.

"That was the ticket, though," Merle mused while he looked for whatever the hell it was he was searching for. "Keep 'em just a night…it's a one-time deal. An' I ain't got half the stamina I had when I was twenty…but I'm good for sprints. They ain't knowed no damn difference ya get they asses out the door fast enough…"

"So you sayin' you got no damn plans ta boot this Andrea woman out the door?" Daryl asked. "Don't sound like you, Merle…"

Merle laughed.

"Experimentation's a good damn thing…Daryl," Merle said. "Keeps ya brain from gettin' old…"

He headed back to the ladder that he was working from.

"We still talkin' 'bout'cha relationship?" Daryl asked, laughing at Merle.

Merle hummed at him.

"Best call Axel," Merle said. "See if he can't get his skinny ass over here…I'ma need some damn back up an' you can't be goin' ta meet'cha woman lookin' like ya do. Knock the fuck off early an' take a damn quick shower…we won't say nothin' ta Ty…"

Daryl chuckled and nodded his head, though Merle wasn't looking at him for the moment.

"That s'posed ta be like ya damn blessin' or somethin'?" Daryl asked.

"Get the fuck outta here boy…" Merle snapped back at him. "Get on my damn nerves…I got shit ta do…"

Daryl shook his head, but took it for what it was worth.

"I'ma call Axel soon as I get ta the truck," Daryl offered. "Want me ta tell him ta bring ya somethin'?"

"Tell him I want me one a' them salad things with the pecans in it…he'll know what the fuck I'm talkin' 'bout," Merle said.

"A salad, Merle?" Daryl asked.

"I done told ya ass…Andrea's gonna fuckin' kill me…gotta make some damn sacrifices…now get the fuck outta here…I don't wanta hear ya ass whinin' if ya late ta ya damn date…" Merle threw back.

Daryl went up the stairs to the upper level of the house, not saying anything else to Merle and informed the woman that Merle and another man would keep working…but he was supposed to be somewhere else for the time being.

And then he called Axel and headed to his house to make himself at least a little more presentable before he showed up at the fancy little café that Carol ran.


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: Here we go…another little chapter. Our lunch date. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Carol had expected Daryl to show up to lunch looking something like the first time she had asked him to come to BellaRose to meet her. He'd surprised her, though, by showing up perhaps a little more flustered than she had expected but also much cleaner.

As soon as his eyes found her, a little of the flustered look left his face and a flash of a smile took its place.

Carol crossed the cafe toward him as quickly as she could and caught his arm to direct him to the table that she had reserved for them without getting out much more than a "hello" that he didn't respond to until they'd settled down in their chairs, and then it was only a nod that served as a greeting on his part.

"How's your day going?" Carol asked, trying to pull conversation out wherever she could.

Daryl shook his head.

"Do we gotta talk about it?" He asked.

Carol was going to respond that they didn't, but Daryl didn't give her the opportunity because he immediately launched into talking about what he'd just indicated he didn't want to talk about.

"Got a damn mess is what we got…woman was all sayin' it was some lil' damn problem…look like her basement could be an indoor pool…" Daryl declared.

Carol laughed at the image of the flooded basement that came into her mind since naturally her mind took it all the way to pool quality…complete with floats and tropical beverages for anyone who might be trying to fix the problem.

Carol held up her hand, interrupting Daryl for a moment, though, wanting to make sure that she'd done the right thing.

"I went ahead and ordered for us…but I could get you something else if you want it…I ordered us both the chicken salad croissants…I didn't know what you might want," Carol said.

Daryl gnawed at his lip a second and nodded his head.

"Yeah…whatever's good," he said.

Carol smiled and nodded…she hoped he would like the chicken salad. It seemed like the most "calm" and "ordinary" thing that she could think of that they were currently offering…and it was a big hit…so she thought that Daryl might find it the most pleasing for lunch.

"So do you get disasters like the basement pool often?" Carol asked, trying to reassure him that, if he wanted, he could continue to talk about the thing that he didn't want to talk about.

Daryl chuckled and rubbed at his face with his hand, both his elbows having found their way to the table.

"Hell…I'ma tell ya…in this damn job they's one thing that's for sure…if they call an' say it ain't no big deal…gonna be a big damn deal…if they say it's the end a' the world…you gonna be outta there ten minutes flat 'cause it weren't nothin'," Daryl said.

Carol laughed and nodded her head.

"You know…I think that might happen in a lot of professions. My friends…well, one's a lawyer, and there's a doctor, and Andrea, you know Andrea, she's a beautician…and I hear similar stories from them about the things that people present to them," Carol said.

Daryl nodded his head and cleared his throat and Carol turned to see Jacqui coming with their food…and with the sweet tea that they were pretty well known for as well…and she thanked her while Daryl shifted around to make room for the food on the table.

Carol sat back, waiting to see how he might respond to the food, and he lifted up the top of the croissant and stared at it like it was a live snake instead of a sandwich.

"The hell's in this chicken salad?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you put in chicken salad?" Carol asked.

"Chicken…mayonnaise…eggs," Daryl said. "Sometimes Merle starts feelin' like some master chef or some shit an' puts some onions in there…"

"Well," Carol said. "It's…just chicken salad…but there's grapes and walnuts in it too…for texture and flavor."

Daryl looked at the food again and Carol almost felt bad for having ruined chicken salad for him.

"Would you like something else?" Carol asked.

Daryl looked around like he was taking in the food on the tables around them and then he shook his head.

"Nah…hell nah…I can…" He broke off speaking and started to pick the offensive ingredients out with his fingers and Carol stifled a laugh.

"Why don't you try it?" Carol asked. "Just try a little of it…and if you don't like it…don't eat it…but you might think it's good."

"Ain't gon' like it," Daryl declared. "Grapes an' nuts don't go on sandwiches."

And Carol did let herself laugh then.

"Daryl…just try it," she urged. "You might like it if you give it a try…you didn't know you liked your chicken salad…or your brother's chicken salad…until you tried it."

The facial expression that Daryl gave her then made Carol pretty sure she might be able to imagine what he had looked like as a child, declaring that he didn't like brussel sprouts…not one little bit.

But, he did put the top piece of his croissant back in place and pick it up, somewhat defiantly, looking at her dead in the eye while he took a bite of it as though he wanted to be sure that she saw the exact moment in time when she was wrong.

Except that's not what she saw on his face once he started chewing the possibly offensive food. He snorted slightly as he chewed and smiled a little, nodding his head.

"Shit ain't too damn bad," he said before he'd fully swallowed the entire mouthful of food. And Carol smiled in response.

"See? You should try things before you decide you don't like them," she said, finally picking up her own sandwich to begin eating.

Daryl chuckled and chewed through another bite of the sandwich.

"So I heard tell," he remarked through the food.

They ate in silence for a moment, and then Carol remembered her conversation earlier with Andrea. She wondered how Daryl would react to the idea of having a dinner with her and Andrea and his brother. It was just dinner, really, but she recognized that it could be seen as being something bigger than that…and she hoped that if she brought it up it wouldn't be enough to freak him out or make him think that she was pushing him into anything.

Carol washed out her mouth with tea and then cleared her throat, happy to see that Daryl, for all his protesting, seemed to be enjoying his food.

"I was talking to Andrea earlier," Carol said. "And…we were thinking about…if you wanted to…maybe fixing a nice dinner at my house? Nothing formal…for you and your brother?"

Daryl looked at Carol and paused in the chewing of the bite of food that he had in his mouth. She worried, with the pause, that he had immediately taken the question the wrong way and she rushed to amend it as best she could.

"I mean nothing special," she declared. "Just…dinner, you know? Just a regular dinner…"

Daryl nodded his head and swallowed down the food that had his mouth slightly overfull. He drank a good bit of his tea to wash it down and then nodded again.

"Yeah…I mean…dinner," Daryl said, his voice sounding noncommittal. "You wanna eat dinner with Merle an' me?"

Carol chuckled ironically.

"Your brother does eat dinner, doesn't he?" Carol asked.

Daryl chuckled then.

"Yeah, he eats…but I ain't never knowed Merle ta really be all about dinners an' stuff," Daryl said. "I mean…he just…well…I ain't knowed him ta really be into it."

He shrugged slightly.

"Then again, I ain't never knowed Merle ta really be into no woman quite like he seems to be with ya friend Andrea neither," Daryl said.

Carol couldn't help but smile at that. She wanted good things for Andrea…she always had…no matter if they came in a package shaped like Merle Dixon or not.

"How about you?" Carol asked, raising an eyebrow before she took another bite of her sandwich and chewed it over, watching Daryl's expression as he gnawed at his lip, his food forgotten for the moment.

"You mean me an' dinner?" Daryl asked. "We got a pretty damn good relationship…I try ta see about it damn near every night."

Carol laughed.

Daryl knew what she was asking, and he knew that she was trying to be coy and ask it indirectly…and he was playing with her. The concerned look on his face from a few moments before was replaced now with something of a smile hinting around the corners of his lips and his eyebrows were raised in challenge…it was her turn.

Carol shifted in her seat and sat forward, putting her elbows on either side of the basket plate that held what was left her food. She folded her hands and leaned her chin on them.

"Do you want to have dinner with me, Daryl?" Carol asked.

He didn't respond immediately. He was waiting for more.

"Do you want…" Carol hesitated a moment in her question, glancing down at the tablecloth and then back at Daryl, "me to meet your brother?"

Daryl stared at her for another moment before he let out something between a chuckle and a snort, first shaking his head slightly and then nodding it.

"Hell…I wanna have dinner with ya…an' ain't you meetin' my brother I'm worried about…it's Merle meetin' you…" Daryl said.

Carol cocked an eyebrow at him in question and he shook his head slightly again.

"Merle can be…" he started. He stopped and looked around at the table like he was looking for a distraction. He found it in the pickle spear in his basket which he finished off before he spoke again. "Merle can be somethin' else sometimes," Daryl added. "If ya can imagine…I…uh…sometimes I'm the one that got most the damn manners a' the family."

Carol laughed lightly at the confession and moved to pick up the pickle spear from her own basket, holding it out to Daryl without a word. He looked at her and then took it, eating it almost as quickly as he had his own.

"I'm sure we'll get along just fine," Carol said. "And Andrea will be there…she'll keep some semblance of peace if anyone can, right?"

Daryl shrugged and found his sandwich again, though there was little left at this point. Apparently he thought the same thing, so he simply accepted what was left as a final bite, even if it was a little more than a bite should be. He chewed a moment, swallowing part of it down in a manner that almost looked painful to Carol, and then he spoke around what was left.

"When you wantin' ta do this dinner?" He asked.

Carol shrugged. She hadn't really thought that far into it. It had been more or less suggested on a whim, but now it looked like it was going to be something that actually took place.

"This weekend? Friday?" She asked.

Daryl bobbed his head, still chewing.

"I could buy the food…Andrea and I could prepare it…you could bring drinks if you wanted," Carol said. "Like I said before, nothing too special…"

Daryl nodded his head and washed down his food with what was left of his tea just as Jacqui came over, bearing refills from a sweating glass pitcher.

"You two need anything else?" Jacqui asked with a smile and a quick wink to Carol.

Carol looked at Daryl and raised her eyebrows at him to ask if he wanted anything else. She could barely finish the sandwich herself. She certainly wasn't looking to add to it.

"Pie?" Daryl asked, obviously caught off guard with the appearance of Jacqui and the sudden questioning of what else he might like to eat.

"Cherry, peach, apple, or chocolate?" Jacqui asked.

Daryl looked at Carol like she was supposed to tell him what kind of pie he wanted. Then, though, it seemed to register that the question wasn't overwhelming at all and he chuckled lightly to himself while he scratched at his face.

"Peach…no…no…cherry," Daryl said, nodding his head definitively and offering Jacqui the charmingly crooked smile that he had.

She told him she'd be back, glanced back at Carol, and then went in for his pie.

"Was your food good?" Carol asked.

"Yeah," Daryl said with a smile. "I reckon I misjudged ya chicken salad…"

Carol hummed at him.

"Just don't let it happen again," she teased. "I help come up with most of the dishes that we offer here…and I take criticism of my cooking very personally."

Daryl smiled.

"My bad," he said. "Next time I know not ta question it…just take it…"

He sucked his teeth and paid some absentminded attention to the table cloth.

"Prob'ly like whatever it is anyway…" he said, almost muttering the words. Then he rolled his eyes up at Carol and she could have sworn that he blushed a little. "These are…cute…ain't that'cha word?"

He lifted up the table cloth between his fingers, raising it enough that she would know that he was talking about them.

She nodded her head.

"Thank you…I help with the decorating to," she said, letting a little of her pride in the café seep out into her words. "So…are you going to let me know what your brother says about dinner?"

Daryl nodded his head.

"Yeah…I'ma ask him…but hell ya just as good askin' Andrea 'cause since they runned into one another I think he sees a whole lot damn more a' her than he do a' me," Daryl responded.

Carol bit her lip in fake concern and nodded her head.

"You're right," she said. "It might be faster just to ask Andrea…but then…"

She let her words drop off until he raised his eyebrows at her, letting her know that he was paying attention to what she was saying.

"What?" He asked.

Carol smiled.

"Then you wouldn't have an excuse to call me tonight," she said.

And she was relieved to see when he relaxed from the moment of concern that her words had caused and smiled, nodding his head just a little.

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**AN: And this is just to answer some personal questions by a guest reviewer (dmm)…since we don't have any other way to do so…**

**Firstly, I'm thrilled that you like the story. I'm enjoying working with it and I'm excited to see where it might end up (they always surprise me too).**

**Where do I get my inspiration? I don't know…honestly. I just write what comes to me. That's why I have tons of stories going on at the same time. I write for stress relief, so I don't force myself to write for any given story over another…I just let it come out when and where it's ready to. **

**Do I write in the morning or evening? That depends…but usually I write after my work is done for the day so that's evening or late at night most of the time. Some days I take off and then I write throughout the day.**

**This is a sideline thing for me. I have, essentially, two jobs that are my real jobs. The writing that I do is just "extra". **

**I hope that helps you get to know me a little bit better! **


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Carol rode with Jacqui after work to Alice's house for Sadie's "welcoming" party…at least that's what they were referring to the gathering as.

Apparently Alice and Sadie were spending the day cooking and getting ready for the bash…a wild party that would most probably consist of gossipy conversations and too much alcohol with a little food thrown in for good measure, and everyone else was supposed to bring something that they'd been assigned…the same way it worked for any house party.

Carol and Jacqui were bringing leftover pies from the café. They had three, and they imagined that three pies should be more than sufficient for six women, no matter how long they stayed.

Alice's house was a nice house…but she was also a pretty successful cardiac surgeon…and after her years as serving as a scrub, as she referred to them, she had the house built to her specifications.

It had seen its share of failed relationships too. For as much as Alice joked about how much she hated Uhauling, Carol had seen it happen to her more than once. The biggest problem was that Alice, whether or not she cared to admit it, was something of a romantic at heart and wanted to believe that every woman she went out with was going to be "the one" and she was going to last a lifetime.

Most of the time, though, what it really ended up being was that Alice managed to find a woman who heard the sound of a cash register ring when they heard the words "cardiac surgeon" and then that thought was further concreted when they realized that Alice, even though she didn't boast about it, had far more money than one person actually needed.

And naturally the relationships progressed well in the beginning because Alice could be a flatterer…and she could be attentive with her free time…and being a romantic at heart, she was good at providing any genre of romance that her chosen lady might like.

But it didn't last.

Because along with the job that got her the money, there were long hours and strange schedules. There were times when, they all joked, she disappeared from the face of the Earth or slumped off to her hole.

And there were a lot of women who wanted the money that came with the profession, but they didn't want to deal with the fact that the profession had demands that kept some of their own from being met…and they didn't like the fact that very often, when she had time off, Alice was more inclined to want to stay in her home in her pajamas and rest rather than to put on any huge show of going out and doing things.

So the relationships never lasted too long before one woman or another had either simply given up on Alice entirely and disappeared, usually not too long after they'd moved into her home, or they'd gone the extra mile and decided they would cheat on her in some kind of last ditch effort to keep the benefits of being with her while reaping the physical and emotional rewards of being with someone who had a little more time on their hands.

And Carol sincerely hoped that Sadie wasn't going to be another in the list.

From the cars, Carol knew they were the last to arrive. She carried two of the pies and followed Jacqui up to the house and waited after Jacqui knocked at the door.

"Helloooo!" Alice said, yanking the door open and ushering them inside. "You're late…we're already drinking…"

Carol laughed. If she was right, they'd been drinking probably all day…at last Alice probably had since she was likely going to make the best of her time off.

They went directly to her kitchen and dropped off the pies before joining everyone else in the living room where they were sitting around.

"So…if you don't know…this is Sadie," Alice announced, gesturing toward Sadie who waved at Jacqui and Carol.

Carol, of course, already knew the woman, but Jacqui didn't so she made some comment about finally having a face for the name.

"Drill is…talk to Sadie," Alice said. "She reads lips really well…but…the trick for that is she's got to be able to see your lips."

Carol had gotten used to it the night that she'd spent hanging out with the two women…and it really wasn't all that complicated, it was just changing habit a little and being mindful of Sadie's presence.

"Nice to meet you!" Jacqui exclaimed, smiling.

Sadie stood up and came over, offering Jacqui a greeting hug which she accepted. When they were back at arm's length, Sadie smiled at her.

"Nice to meet you too," Sadie said. "But you don't have to yell…I'm deaf…I can't hear it anyway."

Jacqui looked a little embarrassed and Sadie shook her head quickly.

"No…" she said. "when you yell…it's harder to read your lips. So talk to me like you talk to anyone else…so I can listen to you."

"Oh!" Alice declared quickly. "Everyone? Sadie asked me to make an announcement…since it's our first time all hanging out together…that she…sometimes misses things…but she doesn't want you to freak out about it. If she needs clarification, she'll ask for it…OK?"

Everyone agreed…after all…there was nothing objectionable, and Carol thought she could kind of understand it. It would likely be embarrassing if they were to treat Sadie, constantly, as though she were "the deaf woman" and not as though she were simply Sadie, someone they were supposedly welcoming to their group for as long as she chose to stay with Alice…and by extension, with them.

Dinner for the night was finger foods and Sadie and Alice had prepared about twenty different kinds of snacks and goodies for everyone to pile their plates up with and settle down with drinks and food for conversation and relaxation.

"So Grandma…boy or girl? Do we know yet?" Alice asked Michonne once they were all settled in.

Michonne shot her a look.

"I am not going to be Grandma," she challenged. "And we don't know…"

"What's wrong with Grandma?" Sadie asked.

Michonne shook her head.

"I'm not old enough to be grandma…and that sounds so…let me bake you some cookies and knit you a sweater…no…" Michonne said, finishing up with a shake of her head that made several of them laugh at her disgust over the word.

"But when you have a little grandbaby you might feel differently about it," Alice challenged. "You might go completely and totally grandma insane. You might be like a fucking knitting machine…"

"Alice…" Michonne warned.

"It's not going to bother me one bit to be a grandmother," Jacqui said confidently.

She wasn't likely to be a grandmother any time soon. Her son, Allen, the only child that she'd ever had with T, was nineteen years old…the same age as Michonne's youngest child…and not at all interested in anything that even smelled like adulthood.

"You say that…" Michonne said.

Jacqui laughed.

"No…I'm serious," she responded. "Think about it…I get all the grandbaby love I want…I get to oooh and ahh over whatever they do…and then I get to send the little creature home to be punished and raised up by its parents. I will have done my work…the grandbaby is all about play."

"She's got a point," Andrea offered. "I mean…if I could skip kids and go straight to grandkids…why not? You just get to like them…you don't have to worry about how they're growing up because it isn't your responsibility…"

Michonne laughed.

"But I do worry…because Angie is not mature enough to have a child," Michonne challenged.

"She's as old as you were…" Carol tossed in.

"I was more mature than she was," Michonne tossed back.

Carol decided to do her best to change the subject away from children and grandchildren. She'd learned that in their gatherings they tended to get stuck on certain topics and then it never let up. One of those topics was children and grandchildren since Michonne and Jacqui were, at least most likely, the only two in the group that would ever have anything to really contribute on the topic. And if things accidentally tipped into heated…which sometimes they did if someone had started drinking in a certain mood…then things got said that weren't meant, particularly along the lines of "none of you can understand because you'll never be in that position".

So it was better to steer conversations away from potentially hurting feelings.

"So, Sadie," Carol asked, leaning up from her position to catch Sadie's attention. "What do you teach again?"

Sadie smiled.

"Gender and Women's Studies," Sadie said. "And…I have a degree in Psychology…so I teach there when they need extra help."

"Wait!" Andrea called out, sitting and throwing what Carol assumed to be what was a toothpick from one of the foods that she had eaten at Sadie so that Sadie looked at her, laughing lightly over the debris that she picked off herself. "Are you psychoanalyzing us right now?"

Sadie laughed.

"Oooh…" she drew out, pointing at Andrea. "Only you!"

"Only me?" Andrea asked. She laughed and looked around at everyone else. "Why only me?" She asked.

Sadie smiled.

"I like to go for the craziest people in the room," Sadie said, signing "crazy" as she spoke.

"Well…as long as it's free…" Andrea said with a shrug.

"Alice…" Jacqui said quickly. "Did these two tell you that they're dating brothers?"

Andrea shot Jacqui a look, but Jacqui was too busy looking satisfied with herself over Alice's facial expression to care one way or the other.

"Hell no! When did that happen?" Alice asked, a shocked look on her face, as she sat up on the edge of the chair that she'd been leaning back in moments before, almost sloshing her drink out of her glass.

"I'm not dating Merle…" Andrea said.

"And I don't even know what I'm doing with Daryl," Carol added.

Carol pretended she couldn't feel or see out of the corner of her eye Jacqui's expression.

"They're doing a dinner with them and everything…a real family affair," Jacqui said, obviously choosing to ignore the protests of both of them. Jacqui, in general, was given to ignoring anything that she wanted to ignore.

"Holy shit! Like this is serious?" Alice looked happy now and she grinned first at Andrea and then at Carol.

"What?" Sadie asked, waving at Alice, obviously having missed the cross conversation.

"These two…Carol and Andrea…are getting serious with brothers…family dinner and everything," Alice said, her voice taking on something of the musical quality that children used when teasing each other on the playground and Sadie hummed, rearranging herself and indicating a clear interest in this topic over the other ones that hadn't held her interest quite so much.

"I admit," Carol said. "I wanted to meet Daryl's brother…the dinner was my idea."

And she felt her cheeks grow a little warm at having gained the interest of everyone in the room…Andrea obviously relieved to have lost their attention.

"So you're serious about him? Wanting to meet the family? This is not drink guy?" Alice said.

Carol shrugged a little and nodded his head.

"No!" Alice spat. "No! What the fuck, Carol? Drink guy? Come on…"

"You knew about this…we talked about this…" Carol said, pointing her finger at Alice.

Alice frowned.

"If I don't remember it, it doesn't count…just like all the stupid shit I did in college," Alice protested.

Carol chuckled lightly and shook her head.

"I think I misjudged him on drink night," Carol admitted. "I really do…I think…I don't know…I misjudged him…"

Alice huffed loudly.

"But wait…what happened to the guy that you were like going to dinner with?"

"Daryl?" Carol asked.

"The other one…the nice one…" Alice said.

"Daryl?" Carol repeated.

Alice frowned.

"They're all the same guy?" She asked. "Or do you just have a thing now for guys named Daryl?"

Carol laughed.

"Same guy, Al…you've just been too busy to pay attention," Carol said.

Alice sighed and raised her eyebrows, nodding her head slightly to agree with the comment. She didn't deny it…and they didn't hold it against her. When life got really busy for Alice she simply vanished…and she got swept up in her work…and they had to catch her up when she crawled back into their presence looking to be reminded that there was life outside the hospital.

"Well I hope you misjudged him on drink night and not now…because I don't have patience for assholes anymore…" Alice declared.

That caught a loud laugh from Andrea.

"When have you ever?" She teased.

"And you? What is the brother like? Dear God…not like Shane…" Alice declared.

"Merle's…not like Shane," Andrea said, her voice not entirely committed.

"That doesn't sound very promising," Michonne spoke up.

Andrea shrugged.

"He's…OK…maybe he's a little bit of an asshole," Andrea said. "But he's just not like Shane…and we're not really dating…"

"They're just seeing each other every night," Carol said matter of factly with a nod of her head at Jacqui who was looking at her, a smile teasing the corner of her mouth, to see if Carol was going to join her in calling bullshit on Andrea.

"We're not really dating," Andrea repeated.

"OK…OK…we'll let everyone call their relationship whatever the hell they want to call it," Alice declared. "I don't care what you call it…so long as he's not like Shane…I'm all for it…"

"So you're all for Merle but not for Daryl?" Carol asked.

Alice got up and moved to the little bar set up on a table beside her fireplace to fix herself another drink.

"I'm just fine with drink guy Daryl…as long as he's not an asshole…and I forget a lot of shit…but with my friends? I'm like an elephant. I never forget when people do shitty things to my friends," Alice declared.

Carol shook her head at Alice, and she was thankful when Michonne steered the conversation on to talk about something that she'd seen on television about tile and something she was planning on doing in her house soon…inevitably moving the conversation onto home improvement…because like with children and grandchildren, conversations could easily get stuck on relationships and the mistakes that they all had made and were bound to make in the future.


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"Too much?" Andrea asked as soon as she came through the door into Carol's kitchen to start helping prepare the meal.

And Carol knew immediately what she was referring to because her friend was a little overdressed for the occasion that Carol had proposed for Daryl and Merle.

"It's fine," Carol said. "I can change into a dress..."

At least changing her own clothes would make Andrea stand out a little less, and Carol was willing to step up her chosen pants and top to a dress to keep Andrea from feeling insecure about being overdressed.

Andrea sighed.

"I was stuck between this and jeans but it's like I couldn't commit to anything in between," she said.

"You look good," Carol assured her.

And she did look good. But that's one thing that could always be said about Andrea, when she aimed to impress, she never fell short of the mark.

"I might have worn pantyhose with a dress that short though," Carol said.

"I know... I know... You're not supposed to go without them but I hate the damned things so much..." Andrea responded. "And I just don't think that Merle's going to care. To him I think he'd just see hose as one more layer to fight through tonight."

Carol chuckled and shook her head.

"What do you need help with?" Andrea asked.

"Cut up the vegetables over there? For the salad?" Carol asked, gesturing toward one of the areas she had already set up for Andrea.

Andrea nodded her acceptance of the position and went to work.

"So you're going home with him tonight?" Carol asked.

"Mmmm hmmmm..." Andrea hummed.

"But you're not dating him?" Carol asked.

"Nope," Andrea responded.

Carol laughed and moved to the oven to put in the chicken.

"What exactly are you doing then?" She challenged.

"Tonight?" Andrea asked.

"Or in general..." Carol responded.

"I'm fucking him," Andrea responded matter of factly.

Carol chuckled. At least Andrea knew exactly what she was doing…or at least she had an idea of what she was getting out of this whole thing.

Carol didn't know what exactly was going to happen at the dinner tonight. They'd just planned for it to be a nice little dinner. She'd taken the time to clean the house…and she'd gone so far as to get out her nice dishes and place settings so that everything would be visually attractive…but that was as much for her as it was for anyone else's benefit. She liked fixing her house up for gatherings such as this and she enjoyed creating the atmosphere…which was much of the reason that having her café just the way it was had been something of a dream come true for her.

But Carol didn't know if Daryl would stay after dinner or not. She hadn't asked him if he would. She'd actually considered that he might not because of his brother's presence. She figured that he might go home with his brother rather than send him home alone…but now that she knew that Andrea had the full intent of either going home with Merle or taking him home with her, Carol wasn't sure any longer what to expect with Daryl.

"Can you watch everything?" Carol asked. "While I go change?"

"You don't have to change," Andrea said. "I don't want you to feel like you've got to be uncomfortable…"

Carol shook her head. Changing into a dress would make her much less uncomfortable than Andrea would be, knowing Andrea, if she was the only one there who had bothered to go to such a level of dressing up.

"I've got that black dress…the one I got last month that was on sale?" Carol said.

"The one that's got the tie belt thing?" Andrea asked.

Carol nodded.

"I'm going to wear it," Carol said. "It's comfortable anyway…and I haven't had much of an excuse to wear it…"

Andrea smiled.

"It was cute on you…it's a cute dress," Andrea said.

"It's settled then…I'm going to change…I'll open the wine when I get back," Carol said.

She left Andrea in the kitchen and she went to change into the black dress, deciding that even if her inner voice thought she should wear them…and that the dress would look better if she did…she'd forego wearing the hose that she had too, just in case one of the men might question Andrea's choice not to wear them.

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"You wearin' that shit?" Daryl asked when Merle came through the living room buttoning up the bright colored dress shirt.

"Nah…that's why the fuck it's on my body," Merle muttered. "Ain't that what the hell ya do with shit'cha got no damn intention a' wearin'?"

Daryl stared at his brother.

He was dressed up too…or as dressed up as he ever really got. His jeans were clean…he was wearing his non-scuffed up shoes…and he was wearing a navy button down shirt.

But Merle…there was something different about his outfit tonight.

"Merle…that shirt's pink," Daryl pointed out.

Merle rearranged the shirt a little on his body as though moving it a little here or a little there might change the fact that he was dressed just like one of his damn yard flamingos.

"Ain't pink, Daryl," Merle said. "Shows how fuckin' much you know…this here's salmon."

Daryl snorted.

"Shit's pink, Merle," Daryl said. "Same damn color as ya fuckin' flamingos…ya wearin' a damn girl's shirt…"

Merle gave him a look…it was supposed to be a warning look, but Daryl wasn't heeding it as strongly as his brother might like him to.

"Andrea bought it for me," Merle said. "It's a fuckin' salmon shirt…an' flamingos ain't pink no damn way…they salmon…get they colorin' from the fuckin' shrimp they eat an' you ain't never seen no damn pink shrimp in they shells. Saw that shit on the Discovery Channel."

Daryl chuckled.

"You wearin' a pink shirt 'cause some broad give ya a pink shirt?" Daryl challenged.

"I'm wearin' a salmon shirt 'cause it makes me look sophisticated," Merle retorted. "An' 'cause that broad's gonna be takin' the shit off with her fuckin' teeth later…so shut the fuck up."

Daryl shook his head, but he left it alone. If Merle wanted to wear a pink shirt…then Daryl couldn't really figure a good reason why he shouldn't.

"The hell we s'posed ta take over there?" Merle asked, going through the few grocery bags that Daryl had put on the counter after a quick trip to the store earlier.

"Gotta bake these damn rolls…bringin' dinner rolls…that's what the hell she said she ain't had…and we takin' beer 'cause I don't know if she's got any an' I ain't drinkin' straight liquor nor no damn wine," Daryl said. "Said bring ourselves…ya damn pink shirt…an' dinner rolls…"

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Carol thought that dinner was going well…it was going, honestly, much better than she'd suspected it would.

Both the brothers had arrived on time, both bearing aluminum trays of brown and serve rolls, and both had complimented Carol and Andrea on their outfits.

That in itself was enough to make Carol decide that things were going well since she'd taken the opportunity before they arrived to have a glass of wine, set the food on the table with Andrea's assistance, and lower her expectations dramatically.

High expectations really did nothing for dinner parties anyway beside raise the anxiety of the host and make the guests uncomfortable…and Carol was going for neither of that. She'd promised herself that this was going to be relaxed, it was going to be nice, and everyone was going to leave at least saying that their stomachs were full and they'd had a good time.

"So how the hell'd ya two meet?" Merle asked.

Carol cast a glance at Andrea, but it looked like Andrea was leaving the table open for her. She cleared her throat and smiled.

"Well…Andrea did my hair for me…I just walked into her shop one day…without an appointment…and she did it for me," Carol said.

Andrea chuckled.

"It was like ten minutes until closing time and I was the only one in there…and Carol comes in…this was a long, long, long time ago…" Andrea started.

"Not that long," Carol said. "I didn't ride my dinosaur to the shop…"

Everyone laughed at that.

"Well, it was a while ago," Andrea said with a laugh. "Anyway…she comes in and she's all frazzled and she asks if I do walk-ins…and I do, but not usually at closing time…but she had a hair emergency and I didn't really have any plans anyway…"

Carol nodded in agreement with Andrea's story.

"And so she did my hair and she asked me, when I was paying, if I was interested in going with her to get a drink," Carol said.

And at the time, she wasn't really one for going out. She was still married to Ed…in fact, he'd been the cause of the so called "emergency", but she had been upset and he was missing in action, so she'd done something outside of her comfort zone that day…and she'd gone to get a drink.

"And she went with me…and it was love at first sight," Andrea said with a smile and quick wink in Carol's direction that made Carol feel warmer than even the wine she was drinking had made her feel.

Merle chuckled.

"What the fuck is a hair emergency? It's just hair…" He said.

Andrea clucked at him.

"Not for women it's not," Andrea challenged. "And a hair emergency is when…well…it's when something so bad has happened to your hair that if you don't get it fixed you swear to yourself you'll never leave your house again."

She glanced back at Carol.

"And maybe…that's why I stayed late that day," Andrea said. "Because every woman knows what it's like to be stuck with a hair emergency at closing time."

Carol laughed lightly and nodded her head.

Through the years they'd all had some hair emergencies…and Andrea was good at rescuing them all. Even if she wasn't sure what she was going to do about it when they started, she cared enough that by the time they were done, surprised or not with her choices, they were always fairly happy about things.

The same could be said for the eyebrow emergency of a few years ago…also known among them all as the time that Alice thought that she could wax her own eyebrows. Even in the face of that potential disaster of epic proportions…Andrea somehow made it better.

"The hell'd ya do ta ya head?" Daryl asked with a laugh. "How'd ya make it so damn bad?"

Carol shook her head slightly.

"It just…uh…accidentally got cut," she said. "But just part of it…so Andrea had to fix it so that there wasn't just this…missing piece, I guess."

She wasn't going to tell the whole truth. She wasn't going to say that it had been something of an angry fit on Ed's part…one of the times that he'd decided, for one reason or another, that she was too vain and that she was looking cuckold him because one of the assholes he worked with had a loose wife and Ed's imagination was easily influenced.

Daryl chuckled, though, accepting her explanation and apparently making up his own version of what the rest of the story probably was behind the unfortunate incident.

"Did you see Merle's shirt?" Andrea asked Carol, leaning over and running her fingertips around the inside of the sleeve nearest her. "I picked it out…"

Carol nodded her head.

"I did," she said, sipping out of her wine glass. "I love that color..."

Merle beamed, and Carol didn't miss a look that he threw at Daryl. It made her wonder if there was more to the story on the shirt in question than just the fact that Andrea had picked it out.

"It's a really nice color," Andrea said. "As soon as I saw it, I knew it was going to make him look handsome…"

Daryl's face had taken on a hue about the color of Merle's shirt and Carol took a swallow from her glass to keep from laughing at him.

"You look very handsome too, Daryl," she offered to him to see if the shared compliments might make him feel a little better.

He blushed a little redder, though, at the words but nodded his head at her, barking out something of a thanks before he drank from the beer that he was holding in his hand while he leaned back in his chair.

The move drew something of a devilish smile from Andrea who drained off the glass that she was drinking and got up, serving herself from the bar where the wine bottles sat.

"You do," she said with her back to them. "Blues are always nice on me…I think…maybe it's just a Dixon thing?"

That earned a good devilish grin from Merle and Carol couldn't help but think that he was a handsome man…but he was definitely of the variety of man who knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what his attraction level was and how much he could raise it by using some strategically placed charm.

She's suspected, from hearing Daryl talk and even from hearing Andrea talk, that maybe Merle Dixon had a mile wide streak of asshole in him…but now she was beginning to put her finger on what it probably was.

He was obviously the kind of man who had complete control over whether or not he was being an asshole…and if he chose to be one, Carol didn't really doubt that he could be. He might, even, use it as something of an endearing way of being…since it was actually one of the things that Andrea had counted among the reasons she "kind of" liked the man.

And Carol suspected that Andrea, now that she saw Merle and had interacted with him a little, might very well like that he ran the whole gamut of personalities when it suited him.

Because he'd been nothing but charming so far this evening.

He was rough spoken at times, and he lacked a little something in the department of table manners, and some of his jokes told for a laugh were off color…but really he'd been charming. And she didn't pretend to think that it was an accident for even a moment.

"Get me another beer…while ya up?" He called out to Andrea.

She didn't respond, but she did bring him another beer after she rested her wine glass on the table…and she brought Daryl one for good measure even if he hadn't realized that he wanted it.

"I have pie here for dessert," Carol offered. "If anyone wants any?"

Merle shook his head emphatically and Andrea groaned.

Of course, looking at the table, they'd cleaned up almost all of the food that had been prepared and Carol had purposefully made far more than she thought four people could eat in one sitting.

"Daryl?" She asked.

"'Bout like a tick as it is," he declared.

Carol chuckled.

"Was good food, though," Daryl offered. "Damn good…"

Carol smiled and winked at him quickly when she caught him looking in her direction.

"Better than chicken salad?" She asked.

The side of his mouth curled slightly.

"Tit for tat," he said. "Different things entirely…but I ain't turnin' my nose up at neither."

Carol turned to Merle, then, who was having some kind of hushed and whispered conversation with Andrea…probably deciding how long they were going to humor her with their presence.

"What happened with the indoor pool in the basement?" She asked, catching Merle's attention.

Merle looked surprised for a moment, and like he was trying to place what she was talking about, but then he laughed.

"Ya wanna tell her 'bout that damn mess, Daryl?" Merle asked.

Daryl grunted and shook his head, waving Merle on to continue.

And Merle settled into the entertaining story about how they solved this woman's crisis caused by busted water pipes and Carol settled back in her chair with her wine glass in her hand.

The dinner…she thought…was a pretty big success as far as dinner parties could go…lowered expectations or not.


	29. Chapter 29

**AN: So no one noticed that I accidentally gave Carol and Andrea two different "meeting" stories? Whoops…I guess my imaginary editor is slipping on the job. Sorry about that…these things happen.**

**In other news…I'm trying to get my feels back all the way around, and the only way to do that is to write…so if things aren't great, I apologize in advance. Just trying to get around the slump.**

**Here's another chapter! I hope you enjoy! **

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Carol almost laughed at the squirming that ensued as dinner progressed. It became fairly evident when Andrea and Merle considered the little shindig to be over. Besides their occasional whispering, uncomfortable at a table where there were only two other people present, and the looks that anyone over the age of fifteen would have been able to recognize, Andrea also took the opportunity to begin clearing the table.

And she ignored Carol's statement that it wasn't necessary and that she would get around to it later. She went so far, in fact, as to start up the dishwasher and to begin to pack away what little food was left in Carol's refrigerator…as though once everything was clean she could make an equally clean getaway without her conscience bugging her.

So finally, Carol had made something of a statement along the lines of she was sure that Andrea needed to get home or something equally false.

And both Merle and Andrea took the opportunity to leave, declaring that dinner had been lovely…but there were things that needed to be done.

And Daryl had looked like he wasn't sure what to even do when his brother had said goodbye to him as though they didn't live together…and as though they hadn't come together.

"You're welcome to stay a while," Carol offered to him as he hovered in the doorway, not committing to going with the two people who were leaving already as though he didn't exist, and not fully committing to staying behind, "if you want…I mean."

Daryl came back into the house then, nodding his head.

"I could take you home later…" Carol offered.

Daryl nodded his head again and then looked at her, a smirk on his face.

"Someone's gon' have to," he declared. "That's my truck that Merle just took off in…like I don't know they goin' ta the same place…"

Carol laughed.

"They're not very…subtle?" She offered.

Daryl shook his head and gnawed at his lip.

Maybe the transaction from dinner invitation to relaxed evening was going to be difficult to him, or maybe it was simply one that he wasn't used to making.

"Do you want to come into the living room?" Carol prompted, feeling like she was on a first date with him instead of like they'd already been quite comfortable with each other before.

He looked like he was considering it for a moment, but then he nodded his head.

"I'ma grab a beer," he declared.

"I'll refresh my wine," Carol said with a smile.

And finally they went, beverages in hand, and made their way to the living room to sit…each choosing a different piece of furniture to make conversation simpler.

"Do you think your brother had a good time?" Carol asked.

Daryl nodded his head.

"Reckon he ain't had too bad a time," Daryl said. "You'da knowed it if he ain't liked bein' here…Merle ain't really too subtle, as you say."

Carol smiled.

"How much older than you is he?" She asked. "Just out of curiosity?"

Daryl sucked his teeth.

"Ten years," Daryl said, matter of factly. He stared at her a moment and she must have made some kind of face without meaning to because he chuckled. "Now ya tryin' ta figure out which one a' us was the accident?" He asked.

Carol laughed.

"Maybe I was," she said. Though she really wasn't sure what she had been thinking…she hadn't entirely committed to any one thought at the moment.

"We both was," Daryl said. He shrugged. "Merle was just the earlier accident…an' I was the later one…wouldn't exactly go so far as ta say my parents was plannin' neither damn one a' us…"

Carol didn't know how to respond to that…but she offered the soft apology that good manners teaches us is necessary in uncomfortable situations and she got the customary excuse of the apology by Daryl.

It was nothing but a thing…something in the past.

And Carol understood that…because it never really did anything at all when someone apologized to you about your past. It didn't change things and it didn't make them better. It was just something to say…and chances were they were apologizing to you for something that you'd already dealt with, at least in some way.

"How 'bout you?" Daryl asked after a moment. "No brothers an' sisters?"

Carol shook her head.

"I'm an only child," Carol said. "I don't think that my parents could have any more children…but my mother never really talked about it. You know…we don't talk about those kinds of things…it was a common phrase in my family."

"What about'cha parents?" Daryl asked.

"They passed already," Carol said, nodding her head slowly with the words. Daryl responded by nodding his own head.

"Yeah…mine's been…hell they been dead longer than they was alive, I reckon," Daryl said. "Mostly just been me an' Merle…"

"I have my friends," Carol offered. "They're like family…a different kind of family…"

"Ya mean Andrea?" Daryl asked.

Carol smiled and nodded.

"And there are others," she said.

Daryl smirked at her after a moment.

"Hope I don't know none of 'em,' he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I doubt you would…if you don't know Andrea…everyone else would be…inaccessible…to you," Carol said.

He made a face and leaned toward her.

"They challengin' or somethin'?" He asked.

She nodded her head.

"Married…in committed relationships…lesbians…big challenges," she responded, not even attempting to hide the giggle that escaped at the thought of Daryl trying to take on any one of her friends as some kind of "challenge".

Daryl sat back then, the joke, for what it had been worth, over for the moment and sucked on his beer.

"You never told me too damn much about yourself," Daryl said after a moment. "Ya never said much about'cha husband…"

Carol didn't like the way that her stomach flopped when he mentioned it.

She'd overcome a good deal of her problems with Ed and with the relationship that had ended quite some time ago. But that didn't mean that she really liked to talk about it all that much. Her friends already knew about it, and they didn't need it to be hashed and rehashed.

And she didn't really like the idea of bringing it up with Daryl at the moment. It just wasn't necessary.

She shook her head slightly.

"There's not much to tell," she said. "I was married…we didn't work well together…I divorced him."

Daryl nodded his head somewhat thoughtfully.

"An' now ya just a single woman?" He asked.

Carol stared at him, tipping her head to the side. She shrugged slightly.

"I don't know…" she said. She raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"

Daryl looked at her hard a moment and then smirked.

"You seein' someone?" He asked.

Carol shrugged slightly.

"I'm not sure…" she said. "I thought…I might be."

Daryl scratched at his chin.

"Yeah? What's he like?" Daryl asked.

Carol swallowed, offered him something of another shrug.

"You'd like him I bet," she said. "He's…well…he's not quite like anyone I've ever dated before. He's…handsome…he has a pretty good sense of humor…he likes my cooking."

"That shit's important," Daryl said.

Carol nodded.

"It is…very important," she said.

She caught a hint of a smile as Daryl raised his beer up and took a long draw out of it. She mirrored him, drinking from her wine glass.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Carol asked, trying to put as much innocence into her voice as she could without giving away her amusement with the game.

Daryl fidgeted a little. He crossed his legs, uncrossed them, crossed them again…and then he took another swallow from his beer.

He nodded his head in such a way that it almost wasn't a nod…it was more like a bobbling motion that went as much from side to side as it did up and down.

"I guess…you might could say that," he said. "But…uh…it's hard ta say for sure…"

Carol sucked in her bottom lip to keep from smiling.

"Why's that?" She asked when she'd composed herself and trusted herself to continue with the game. She forced her brows to furrow.

Daryl released a little bit of a laugh before he pulled it in under control and he uncrossed his legs in the same nervous manner as before and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Well…she's kinda…hard ta read," he said. "Lil' bit…mysterious…"

Carol raised her eyebrows.

"Mysterious?" She asked.

He nodded.

"What's she like?" Carol challenged.

"Mmmm…" Daryl hummed. He smirked again. "She's…pretty…gotta temper…Merle would say she's fiery."

"Sounds interesting," Carol said, raising her eyebrows at him and taking a drink of her wine so that the act could cover the smile.

"Like ya boyfriend?" He asked.

Carol tipped her head to the side a little.

"You could say that," she said.

"But…" Daryl said, raising a finger at her like he was going to bring up a very important part of this whole discussion. And Carol saw him blush red and could already suspect, before he ever committed to it, what he might say. And he seemed to be having a bit of a harder time getting it out than he'd had with playing along with the rest of the joke. "Is he good in bed, though?" Daryl finished, a sound between a laugh and a snort escaping as he tried to hold it back.

Carol chewed her lip again, but she felt the heat rising in her own cheeks and knew that she couldn't pull through any kind of response without at least giving away the teasing a little.

She nodded her head.

"Very good," she said. "He's…very…eager to please…he takes direction well…"

Daryl grunted.

"Important…" he said.

Carol smiled slightly and nodded.

"And your…mysterious girlfriend?" She asked.

Daryl made a face and wagged his hand back and forth and Carol's smile dropped entirely. She might have been bothered by it if the face he was making wasn't replaced, almost immediately, by an even wider smile than before.

"She's uh…I'd say…best I ever had…" Daryl said.

Carol bit the inside of her lip, refusing to give her smile away this time. She raised her eyebrows and nodded like this was really intriguing information.

"Really? The best?" She asked.

He nodded.

"That ain't what'cha think about'cha boyfriend?" Daryl asked.

Now it was Carol's turn to change her position. She straightened up from the slight slouch that she'd taken on and drank more of her wine than she might have normally taken in with just one swallow before she cleared her throat.

"Well…I guess…I'd say he's in the top two," she said.

"Top two?" Daryl responded.

Carol shrugged.

"I mean…he's still pretty…new…there are still things we haven't tested out," she said, forcing herself to attempt, despite her blushing, to say this in the same manner that she might describe why she preferred one color paint over another for the living room. "I just don't want to be too hasty…you know? I don't want to…give full credit…when there's so much left…undone."

Daryl smirked and nipped nervously at his fingertips before swallowing dramatically enough that Carol couldn't have missed seeing it from where she was sitting.

"Yeah…well…uh…sounds like ya ain't too single then…I mean…if he's all that…" Daryl said.

Carol smiled softly.

"Maybe not," she said. "Maybe you're…more involved than you thought?"

Daryl smiled and examined his beer bottle for a moment before he nodded his head.

"Maybe I am," he responded. "What…uh…what kinda things…I mean…"

He stopped and shrugged and Carol thought she might not be able to hold back her laughter at how embarrassed and intrigued he looked, all rolled into one. It was as though he didn't know where to let his emotions go at the moment…and she felt similar.

"What kinda things…ya ain't…done yet…that'cha was thinkin' 'bout?" He asked, his face taking on the color of a beet now.

Carol smiled but bit it back as quickly as she could and furrowed her brow. She drained the last of her wine and put the glass on the table with a definitive clink.

"Oh…I don't know," she said. "They're…probably easier to show someone…than explain…"

Daryl snorted.

"Hell…I might…need ta see this shit," he said, draining his beer and putting the bottle beside her abandoned glass.

"For research purposes?" Carol asked.

Daryl smiled.

"Somethin' like that," he said.

Carol got up, smoothing the dress she was wearing with her hand and reached a hand out to him. When he didn't immediately take it, she wiggled her fingers at him and he chuckled lightly, reaching out and taking her hand, coming up to stand on his feet in front of her.

"Let's go to the bedroom," she said. "For…research purposes…"

Daryl chuckled.

"Hell," he croaked, "I'm right behind ya ass…"


	30. Chapter 30

**AN: Well…I'm not going to lie. I had 110% intention of not giving you any smut at all after the last chapter. But…you all asked so nicely…and I was in a good mood…so here you go. If you're not into smut…you can probably skip over this just fine after the little bit of conversation.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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Daryl didn't want to admit that his heart was pounding just at the thought of what Carol might have in store for him…or what she might expect from him.

Because he wasn't all that well-schooled on all things sexual. He'd had plenty enough sex before…but it hadn't been anything too impressive. Most of the women that he'd dated were pretty run of the mill and sex had been pretty much "spiced up" only by the occasional change in location or position.

And all the women he'd been with liked it that way…or at least they said they did.

Daryl knew he wasn't too well versed because he heard the things that Merle talked about doing with his various conquests and Daryl knew for a fact that he'd never done half of them…and a lot of them left him wishing he could unhear things and that his brain didn't have the overwhelming need to conjure up images that disturbed him a great deal.

When they got into the bedroom, Carol crossed the room and turned on a lamp, flooding the room in light, but a softer light than if she'd merely flipped on the overhead switch. She kicked off the flats that she was wearing and peeled her dress over her head in one swift movement, turning around and laying it out over the arm of a chair that was in the room. And then he watched as she ran her fingertips in her underwear, straightening the black panties a little that she was wearing…and that matched her bra.

She smiled at him, laughing a little like she was laughing at something she'd just thought of…something he hadn't been privy to…and then she ran her fingertips through her hair.

Daryl swallowed and stared at her.

She was perfect…she was built and just seeing her standing there, like she was waiting on something, some great move from him, was almost more than he could take.

"Can I ask ya somethin'?" Daryl asked.

"Sure…" Carol ventured.

"How old are ya, exactly?" Daryl asked.

The look that crossed her face told Daryl he probably shouldn't have asked the question, but he was curious and he'd asked it.

"I'm forty eight…" Carol said quickly. "Does it matter?"

Daryl gnawed his lip and shook his head.

Carol smiled and raised her eyebrows.

"But sometimes I lie about it…because some places I can lie and get the senior discount…and well…" She stopped talking and shrugged, "if they offer it to me…I'm going to take it."

Daryl chuckled at her tone of voice.

"It's because a' ya hair…" he offered.

And it was one of those moments when he heard words coming out of his mouth…words that he was sure had never once passed his brain on their way out his mouth…and he wanted to kick his own ass.

But Carol just bobbed her head slightly.

"Maybe it is…" she said. She shrugged. "But it's my hair…and I stopped fighting with my body a long time ago. My hair is part of that."

"I'm so sorry," Daryl said, shaking his head. "I ain't even meant ta say…"

"No…it's fine," Carol said quickly. "Do you think you're saying something I've never heard before, Daryl?"

"Ya ever heard it in ya underwear?" Daryl asked, feeling his face burn hot along with the rest of his body as he was overcome with his own embarrassment.

"How old are you?" Carol asked, ignoring his question.

Daryl cleared his throat.

"Forty five," he said.

Carol nodded her head.

"So…is my age a problem?" She asked after a second. "I mean…do you want to go?"

Daryl shook his head.

Though he knew that her age would be a problem for him…before he'd know her. He had always been specific about ages…he'd always felt like a woman of a certain age couldn't be the woman for him. But he was willing, now, to give it a chance and to go back on all those things he had thought before.

"What'd ya have in mind?" He asked after a moment.

Carol smiled.

"First…I thought you might take off some of your clothes…" she said, raising her eyebrows at him again.

And it was only then that Daryl really thought about the fact that she was standing there in her underwear while he was still fully dressed. He snickered a little at his own absentmindedness and came out of his clothes as quickly as he could, piling them all up on a dresser nearby.

And then he felt sorry that he'd had the conversation with her that he'd had while she was standing there in her underwear because he realized, all at once, how self-conscious you could feel once your underwear was all that you were wearing.

Carol walked toward him and she pushed her body against him, reaching up and pushing gently at his head. He knew what she wanted, and he dipped his head to kiss her, her tongue entering his mouth and playing with his before he even got his senses about him enough to let his hands go to her and start to take in the soft feeling of her skin.

He liked that she liked kissing…because it was something he actually enjoyed a good deal…and he liked that she was good at it…or at least she was just about right for him.

He slipped his hands down, catching her ass cheeks and pulled her into him and she finally broke the kiss off, panting from the lack of air and the exertion that they'd put into maintaining it for as long as they had.

And she slid her hands into his boxers, pushing them down as she lowered herself down to her knees in front of him. He watched her and stepped out of his underwear. She flung them to the side and wrapped her hand around him, stroking him.

"This OK?" She asked.

And Daryl couldn't help but chuckle. He might say a lot of ridiculous shit when he didn't mean to, but he couldn't imagine who in the hell would have told her at that moment that whatever she wanted to do wasn't alright.

He grunted a yes at her and watched her as she worked as long as he could, his hands finding their way into her hair. And finally he let himself stop watching her because he was so overcome with his own rush that he could only tip his head back and close his eyes, not wanting to miss a moment of the feelings that were running over him.

He stayed that way a moment after he came and then he looked at her, sitting back on her feet now on the floor, wiping at the corners of her mouth with her thumb, a smirk on her face like absolutely nothing of notice had happened.

And he remarked that his legs were shaking a little he thought that if he'd been forced to anywhere immediately, he might have only been able to do so in the most humorous way possible.

"OK?" She asked, moving around and drawing her knees up in front of her, wrapping her arms around them.

Daryl nodded, swallowing against his somewhat dry throat at the moment, and he stood there a moment, waiting to get his land legs back.

"What about you?" He asked when he felt in full control of himself again. "You ain't got nothin' outta that…"

She didn't respond, but she did reach a hand out to him and he took it, helping her as she got to her feet.

"I wouldn't say nothing…" she said. "What did you have in mind?"

Daryl snickered to himself.

"I'ma be real damn honest with ya…" he said.

She looked at him like she was genuinely curious in whatever he was about to say and he almost hated that he was going to admit it, but he wanted to be straight forward rather than disappointing if he had to choose one of the two to be at the moment.

"I…uh…hell…I ain't done a whole lotta shit…" he admitted. "Always been kinda like…if it ain't broke, don't fix it…."

Carol looked at him a moment, pretty intensely and then she laughed.

"That's…probably the…most romantic thing I think I've ever heard in this situation…" Carol said and Daryl couldn't help but echo her laugh.

"Just bein' honest…" he said.

"Well…I'm not too scary," she admitted. "We could…start wherever you like…we don't have to try to do the most outrageous things we can think of right off…"

Daryl brought his lips back to hers and she kissed him fully…he thought it was a turn on that he could still taste himself on her.

When he pulled away, he reached behind her and fumbled with the clasp on her bra until it snapped open and she moved her arms, allowing him to toss it to the side where it could join his boxers on the floor.

He cupped her breasts in his hands and ran one hand up between them, pushing her enough that she'd lean back a little, his other hand spread flat on her back to offer her some support, and he bent so that he could take his time, sucking, licking and teasing her nipples…and he knew he must be doing something that she liked because she moaned and her hands came to him, rubbing his arms and shoulders…trailing up to tug at his hair.

Finally he straightened up and turned her around without saying anything so that her back was to him. He pushed her underwear down and she stepped out of it the same way that he'd done with his when she'd presented him with the scenario and he sent the black panties off to join the rest of the discarded undergarments before he stood up and pulled her back against him, letting his hands go around her and tease her breasts while he sucked and nipped at her neck and shoulders.

She leaned into him, responding to his touches and moving her body…and he thought that he might not end up needing as much recovery time as he was trying to buy for himself, fully aware that women required much less recovery time than he usually needed between activities.

Leaving one hand to play with the breast that it had found, he slid the other down her body and found his way between her legs and she moved enough to rub against him…letting him know, in case he didn't…that he'd found the spot she wanted him to find.

He rubbed her and teased her until he was ready again…and by now he knew that she was more than ready and emitting sounds that sounded like something between purrs and moans, which only served to increase his own interest in the moment.

Daryl pushed her forward, walking her toward the bed, and she went willingly. When he pushed her toward the mattress, holding one of his hands in place around her body, she took his lead without hesitation and bent over the bed, spreading her legs and offering herself to him in such a way that he went from partially aroused to very aroused almost instantly.

Knowing that she was ready for him…and being fully ready for her…he pushed into her and didn't hold back. And she seemed to appreciate that he wasn't in the mood for being timid because she not only responded to him but she encouraged him…something he wasn't entirely used to since most of the women that he'd ever been with hadn't bothered to give much of anything in the way of direction. Most of them seemed to just think that he could read their minds…or either they were entirely satisfied with anything.

But Carol responded to him. She called out requests to him and she affirmed that things were "good" or she told him "yes" when he found one spot or another that she liked…one speed or another.

He'd barely held out, despite the fact that he'd already had some relief before, to see her let go before he came again, but she managed to beat him with one or two thrusts to spare before he reached what was the finish line for him.

And panting, he barely got himself onto the bed before his protesting legs gave out on him.

He sat back, resting on his hands, and couldn't help but chuckle when she…panting as well…crawled up the mattress almost like she was a snake slithering onto it. And she laughed a little through her ragged breath when she flopped and rolled over on here back beside him.

"Not too bad?" He asked, coughing a little around his lungs' indecision over whether or not they wanted to allow him to laugh again or if they wanted to focus entirely on getting oxygen he needed.

She barked something of a laugh, obviously having the same breathing problem as he did, and she shook her head from side to side.

"Well it's not broken," she panted out at him.


	31. Chapter 31

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter here. A little character development more than anything.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Carol awoke slowly and it took her a moment to realize what the sensation was that she was feeling as she came into the world around her.

And she smiled to herself, into her pillow, as she realized that the sensation was Daryl, kissing her back gently…and she shivered when he reached her neck. The shiver made him chuckle and move away.

"You're going to stop now?" Carol asked, realizing her voice came out sounding like she'd begun to transform into a frog while she'd been sleeping.

"Didn't know if you might want me to," Daryl said.

"You don't have to," Carol said. "I wouldn't want to force you to stop…"

She rolled slightly, not giving up her position on her stomach, so that she could see Daryl lying in the bed next to her, propped up on one arm, his eyes still a little swollen with sleep but looking like he'd definitely been awake longer than she had.

"You want breakfast?" Carol asked.

Daryl smiled.

"We talkin' 'bout food or we still playin' with words?" Daryl asked.

Carol hummed at him.

She wouldn't mind a little morning repeat of what had happened last night…but she was sincere about breakfast too. She was starving, honestly.

"Breakfast…" she said. "I have the makings of some really remarkable bagel sandwiches for breakfast…and if it's nice…we can eat on the back porch…and then if you want dessert…we could talk about that too…and now I'm playing with words."

Daryl laughed but he didn't respond at first. With the pause, Carol wondered if she might have overstepped. Maybe breakfast wasn't what he had in mind.

"If you've got something else to do," she offered, "I understand."

Daryl shook his head after a second.

"Nah," he said. "Ain't got nothin' else ta do today…breakfast it is…wish I'd brung somethin' else ta wear…"

Carol snickered.

"And a toothbrush?" She asked, raising up a little.

Daryl looked momentarily confused, but nodded that he wished he did have a toothbrush, and Carol couldn't help but smile, knowing that he was out of the loop and that maybe men weren't as aware of the whole "toothbrush and change of clothes" joke as she and her friends were.

"I think…" she offered "that I have a t-shirt big enough to fit you…I'm not saying super stylish…but it's something."

"Am I gonna be on a magazine or some shit?" Daryl asked.

Carol smiled.

"And," she added, raising her eyebrows at him, "it just so happens that I know I have a couple of extra toothbrushes…if you'd like one…"

"You plan this?" Daryl teased.

Carol pushed herself up and got out of the bed, stretching as she headed toward the bathroom, not bothering to cover herself in any way…she figured, by now, Daryl was well aware of what she looked like, and if he wasn't then he might as well learn about it before they went any farther down the road that they seemed to be travelling.

"I'll get the shirt and leave the toothbrushes on the counter," Carol said as she got to the bathroom. "Then you can get ready while I start breakfast."

She didn't wait for a response from him before she slipped into the bathroom to start getting herself presentable for the morning.

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"This is not fair!" Andrea protested through her laughter.

She couldn't be as mad about it as she wanted to be because Merle was making her laugh too hard about the whole situation…and no matter how much you wanted to be annoyed or angry, it was difficult to do when you laughing to a point that tears were rolling down your cheeks…tears that she could do nothing about with her arms tied behind her head.

Both of them had woken up far too early for a Saturday morning…so they'd filled the time as best they could. As a result, Andrea had lost the use of her arms…which wasn't so bad…except for at the moment Merle was teasing her about her toes, having learned the night before that she had more ability to use them for things than some people had with their fingers, and now he was picking at them and tickling the bottoms of her feet.

"You're breaking my trust!" Andrea declared, trying to kick against him even though he held her ankle firmly in his hand. "Trust is being broken right now!"

Merle was laughing nearly as hard as she was and the more that he laughed the more that he forgot about the tickling, so she was trying to keep him laughing.

"All the shit'cha just fine with," Merle declared, "an' ya losin' ya fuckin' mind 'cause I'm ticklin' the bottom of ya damn feet! This is the greatest damn thing ever…damn you got monkey toes…"

Andrea tried, unsuccessfully, to kick at him again and he snorted.

"You climb shit with these fuckers?" Merle asked.

"Leave my monkey toes alone!" Andrea declared. "It's not fair! The knots are too tight!"

Merle let go of her feet, but he didn't move to untie the restraints that they'd made the night before out of an old pillow case that he'd allowed her to cut up. He moved so that he was closer to her and she gave up the fight and flopped, panting from the laughter more than she'd been panting from the sex earlier, staring at him.

"You the one that told me three damn times they weren't tight enough," Merle said. "Hell…coulda took ya ass off some damn where for as solid as ya wanted ta be tied up…an' now ya sayin' they too damn tight?"

He did have a point…she had insisted that he tie the restraints tighter, but that had been because she'd hoped that everything got good enough that she might snatch loose from them…not because she wanted to be defenseless against foot tickling torture.

She smiled at him.

"Let me go…and I'll make you some breakfast…" Andrea said.

Merle hummed like he was considering it.

"The works?" He asked. "Grits…eggs…bacon…toast?"

Andrea crossed one of her legs over the other knee and bobbed her foot as though she were impatient with him and his lack of release.

"Is that what you have in the kitchen?" She asked.

"Ain't got no bacon…" Merle said.

Andrea laughed.

"Well then I don't suppose I'll make bacon," she said.

Merle hummed at her again.

"You wait here…I'ma go ta the store…get bacon," Merle said, getting up off the bed and starting to get dressed.

"Do not! Do not leave me tied to a bed naked!" Andrea squalled out at him.

"Ain't nobody here…" Merle offered, still getting into his clothes.

"Merle…" Andrea whined. "I'm serious! You don't let me loose right the fuck now and when I do get loose…"

Merle stopped and chuckled at her.

"What? What the fuck you gon' do about it when ya ass gets loose?" Merle asked.

Andrea set her face.

"I'm not coming back," she said, matter of factly.

"Like I give a fuck," Merle said with a chuckle as he went through one of his drawers…apparently looking for a shirt since he was already wearing pants.

"Ten…" Andrea said. "Nine…I'm making up my mind right now about if I'm ever coming back…eight…"

"Can't hear ya ass…" Merle called with his back to her.

"Seven…six…" Andrea continued.

And she couldn't help but smile that by the time she got to four, Merle came rather quickly toward the bed, dropping the shirt that he hadn't put on yet next to her…and by the time she got to two, he almost had one arm free and was protesting that it wasn't fair to count through knots when they were ridiculous knots in the first place and that was her damn fault.

Once she was free, Andrea sat up and rubbed at her wrists and Merle pulled the shirt over his head that he'd brought and dropped beside her.

"Go get the bacon," Andrea said. "And…I want a Mountain Dew…too…"

Merle chuckled.

"Makin' demands?" He asked.

She made a face at him and he laughed.

"I'll be back," he said.

"Can I take a shower?" Andrea asked.

"Don't know…" Merle said. "Can ya do it without drownin'?"

"Where are the towels?" Andrea asked, rolling her eyes at him.

"Hall closet…ain't too damn hard ta figure out…I'll be back," Merle said as he started through the house, leaving Andrea on the bed to do whatever it was she was going to do before he got back with the fixings for breakfast.

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Daryl sat back in one of the chairs around the back porch table, his feet in the other chair, and lit a cigarette.

Carol got up and found an empty plastic flower pot…one left over from the planting she'd done recently to start rejuvenating the little flower bed near the bottom of the porch steps, and she brought it over, putting it on the table in front of him.

"Ash tray," she said, going back to sit in her chair across from him.

"You mind me smokin'?" He asked, even as he puffed on the cigarette.

Carol shook her head.

"No…not at all…I'd just prefer you not drop the butts on the porch…or on the ground…for me to pick up later," Carol declared.

Daryl nodded at her.

"Fair enough," he said. "Breakfast was damn good."

Carol smiled.

"Thank you," she responded, stretching her legs before she put her feet in the chair next to his, hers barely brushing his.

He looked at her, smiled slightly, and then moved one of his feet with a jerking motion, playfully tapping it against hers. She smiled at him and his gesture both.

"So what are you plans?" Carol asked. "For the rest of the day?"

Daryl hummed, studying the cigarette that rested between his fingers.

"Depends…" he said. "What was you gonna do?"

"Truthfully?" Carol asked.

Daryl nodded at her.

"Nothing," she admitted. "I planned to do absolutely nothing today…"

She laughed at herself.

She felt, sometimes, like she was a boring person. And maybe that was owing to the fact that there was always some kind of stress put on what you were doing…how you'd spent your weekend…what exciting plans you had.

The truth was that Carol seldom bothered to make too many exciting plans, or at least not what she thought other people would find exciting. She liked being boring, too, if that's actually what she was. She liked quiet and she liked picking up little hobbies here and there…things she used to entertain herself for a while and then abandoned when they no longer held her interest. But she wasn't as invested as some people were in coming up with a ton of exciting things to do so that she had stories to tell…and luckily, most of her friends weren't either…and they understood that "nothing" was a perfectly reasonable answer to what you'd done all weekend, or all week for that matter.

Daryl stretched, a little like a cat, bumping her foot with his again and took another draw off the cigarette before putting it out in the bottom of the little plastic pot.

"You want comp'ny ta do nothin' or ya was gonna do nothin' alone?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged slightly.

"Well," she said, "I hadn't planned my nothing out quite so thoroughly…but I guess there's always room for one more…if you had nothing in mind."

Daryl chuckled.

"I ain't got too much in mind," he said. "But I might have a couple things in mind we could do…just ta interrupt the nothin' a lil' bit…if ya interested…"

Carol hummed at him, pretending that she didn't already have a pretty good idea what the facial expression he was making might be alluding to.

"I don't know…" she said with some hesitation. "I'm pretty set on nothing…I mean…to do something you've got to go through the whole get ready thing…it might mess up my being lazy…"

Daryl chuckled.

"Nope…nah…I don't reckon it will…not too much…" Daryl said.

"Your something doesn't mess up my nothing?" Carol asked.

Daryl sucked his teeth.

"Hell…for my somethin'…ya ain't even gotta wear nothin'…an' it leaves a whole helluva lotta damn time for nappin'…get'cha all geared up for nothin' again…" Daryl said with a smirk.

Carol laughed.

"Geared up for nothing?" She asked.

"Or for somethin'…" Daryl said, nodding his head. "Whichever way ya wanna go…"

Carol smiled and kicked at his foot with her own this time and he responded by brushing his toes gently against the bottom of her foot and stretching back, leaning his head against the back of the chair…showing definitively that he was obviously fine with a day spent doing pretty much nothing…at least nothing that would be of any great interest to anyone else.


	32. Chapter 32

**AN: Sorry…no smut for you…maybe later.**

**I got stuck on this story because people wanted smut and the muse was not having it. So I'm keeping going…skipping the smut…because otherwise I'll just hang out there in the I can't write the next chapter land…**

**So here we go, a couple of days' time jump…this is a chapter with the ladies…and it's setting up more of the fun to come in this little story. **

**I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think! **

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"It's for charity," Andrea declared for what was probably the fourth time since she'd gotten to Michonne's house.

"You keep saying that," Michonne declared. "Is that supposed to sway my opinion on this?"

"For the children," Andrea declared. "Think of the children…"

Carol laughed to herself because Andrea wasn't giving up…and Michonne wasn't giving in…and this could probably go on for the remainder of the evening.

Michonne was "hosting" the gathering at her house because it was her turn and because her son was staying at friend's house and she said that was reason enough to celebrate.

Darius was the youngest of her three children and also the least likely to ever leave the nest. At least that's what Michonne had decided. Her baby bird, the one she most wanted to fly away, seemed content to sit in the nest and beg for worms for the rest of his life and Michonne and Tyreese were entirely sure how to tell him that, even though he was going to college right there in town and technically fulfilling their "law" that he go to college, he really should think about expanding his horizons and at least living somewhere else…because they could practically smell a little time to themselves.

Alice was the only other person that had arrived, but Carol figured that Jacqui might still come, since she was usually late and dealing with her own birdie that was clinging to the nest, and Sadie too had been invited, though they weren't sure that she was coming because she hadn't texted back yet in response to her last minute invitation.

"No…she's right…it's a good cause," Alice spoke up from where she was sitting, cross legged on the floor despite the fact that there was more than enough seating for them, doing something with her phone.

"Alice…" Carol asked. "What the hell are you doing?"

Alice looked at her like she was surprised that she'd been caught…and like what she was doing wasn't going to catch the attention of everyone since she looked like she might be trying to hail a cab in Michonne's living room.

Alice grinned.

"I'm learning sign language," she said, holding up her phone like Carol could see it across the room. "I've got this thing that's teaching me…I can almost say…well…I can't say shit…but I'm going to be fluent like tomorrow…"

Apparently deciding to give up on her fluency for the moment, Alice put her phone down on the floor. Carol knew, though, without a shadow of a doubt, that it would be back in her hands in a matter of minutes. No matter how much she declared, before any gathering, that she was putting the phone away…it never stayed that way.

"Sign language, huh?" Carol teased. "Are we this serious about Miss Sadie?"

Alice laughed.

"Hell yes!" Alice said. "I know now why I failed high school Spanish…my teacher wasn't hot enough to motivate me. I would learn to walk on my lips if Sadie said it would be a turn on to her."

"Michonne…come on…I'm already counting on you," Andrea continued, still trying to get Michonne to give into what she would eventually give into…whether she did it with the greatest reluctance or not.

"You can un-count on me, then," Michonne said.

"I'm in," Alice said, her phone back in her hand. "And…Sadie just texted…she's…on…she's on her way…nope…she's outside…is she outside?"

Carol chuckled at Alice trying to read her text message and figure out if she'd gotten her girlfriend lost. Since it was much more of a difficult trip from floor to feet than it was from chair to feet, Carol got up and walked over to the window, glancing out and seeing Sadie coming up Michonne's driveway, her eyes as glued to her phone as Alice's were.

"She's here," Carol said, opening the door and deciding to play welcome wagon.

"Oh! I made it!" Sadie declared as she came closer.

Carol smiled at her and nodded.

"You did! You made it! Come on in," Carol declared, surprised when Sadie wrapped her in a hug without warning. She hugged the woman back, even accepting the quick rock from side to side and ushered her into the room where Sadie gave a quick wave and "hello" to everyone before sitting down on the floor beside Alice and offering her a quick peck of greeting.

"Sadie," Andrea said, pointing at her new victim. "What do you think of charities for children?"

Sadie looked confused, but she shrugged dramatically.

"I like children," she offered. "So…good?"

Andrea smiled triumphantly.

Michonne growled.

"It's not the children that I have a problem with," Michonne said. "I made three of them…I'm fine with children…it's this whole idea."

"We need you…" Andrea declared.

"Why? Why do you need me to embarrass myself? Why can't the…however many of you who are involved do this all on your own?" Michonne asked.

Andrea smiled.

"Because you're the one that's going to choreograph the whole thing…and I'm doing hair and make-up…and Jacqui and Carol are going to help me with costumes…" Andrea said.

"And Alice?" Michonne asked.

"I'm performing," Alice said. "But Andrea doesn't trust me with any other responsibilities…not since that stupid thing where I forgot to bring those baskets of brownies and she had a conniption fit about it…"

"It was a bake sale," Andrea responded.

"I'm forgetful," Alice responded.

Carol leaned against the arm of the chair that she was sitting in, watching them all go back and forth and watching Sadie trying to figure it out…laughing even though she wouldn't have had any idea what was going on…even if she could hear the banter.

Carol waved her hand, getting Sadie's attention and taking mercy on the poor soul and the fact that her friends, though honestly not trying to be rude in any way, were prone to forgetting that sometimes they didn't bother to explain themselves very well.

"There's a competition for charity," Carol said. "It's a two night thing and different businesses are sponsoring groups."

"Oh…" Sadie said, nodding her head in such a way that Carol wasn't positive if she was asking for more information or if she was simply saying that so far she was following the flow of information. She decided to continue at any rate and figured the woman might stop her if she got lost.

"So…Andrea's signed us up to go in as a group…and now she's trying to get Michonne to choreograph the whole thing," Carol said.

"What kind of competition?" Sadie asked.

"Dance competition…well…performance?" Andrea asked, turning to look at Carol as though Carol could explain any better than she could what was happening at Salty's.

They had the competition nearly every year and nearly every year all the proceeds went to a different local charity. Usually they all went down to see them, but this was the first year that Andrea, entering under the salon since you had to be represented by businesses, had ever gone so far as to sign them up. Usually she simply declared, and they agreed, that it looked like it would be fun…that they'd be great at it…that they should do it next year, but they never actually did it.

"It's…it's sort of a dance competition," Carol said, nodding her head and directing her comment toward Sadie. "It's…lip syncing…and dancing…you get judged on performance and on costume, but you don't have to actually sing."

"Each group prepares three songs," Andrea said, waving at Sadie. "So…the first night? They have the first two rounds…elimination or whatever. So you do one song for the first round and if you don't get picked then you don't go on anymore…but if you get picked you do the second round…and then the second night they do the third round for those people and pick the winner…"

"What do you get if you win this shit anyway?" Alice asked.

Andrea shrugged and shook her head.

"Something like a free drink pass for a week…or for a month? I don't know…" Andrea said. "It's free drinks at Salty's…"

"Hell yeah…count me in…I can do a little dance…" Alice declared, dancing around in her spot on the floor.

"Sounds fun!" Sadie declared. "When do we do it?"

Andrea pointed at her.

"You can dance?" She asked.

Sadie shrugged.

"Sure…I can dance…I can't hear…but I can dance," Sadie said, making a face at Andrea like she'd just asked the dumbest question in human history.

"OK…cool…that's cool…" Andrea said, nodding her head. "We go on in three weeks…and we're signed up to do ABBA."

"ABBA?" Sadie asked, looking at Carol for clarification, having obviously decided that Carol was her source of understanding.

"It's the group," Carol said. "It's…well…they're from the seventies and eighties."

Sadie nodded her head.

"Great!" She declared.

And Carol couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. She didn't even know who ABBA was, apparently, but she was all in for the fun of it.

"See, Mich?" Andrea declared. "Sadie's in too. You're going to be the wet rag on this?"

Michonne rolled her eyes.

"Carol, are you doing this?" Michonne asked.

Carol smiled.

"Miss a chance to get dressed up and dance to ABBA? You don't know me at all, do you, Michonne?" Carol said.

Michonne frowned.

"This is not get drunk and dance in Alice's living room…" Michonne declared.

And it was true…most of their dancing did take place with the lubrication of a little too much alcohol and the unfettered freedom of the privacy of someone's living room…but Carol thought it could be fun. And it could be something that they all did together.

"Michonne…it'll be fun," Carol said. "Remember fun? It's that thing that you did that one time?"

Alice snorted from across the room.

"She doesn't remember it because she didn't like it," Alice said. "She's psychologically blocking that shit out."

Michonne made a face and made sure to direct it slowly at both of them…but it only incited both of them to laugh.

"I know how to have fun," Michonne said.

She paused and sighed dramatically.

"Fine…fine…I'll do your stupid little thing that we're going to look ridiculous doing," she said.

Andrea clapped and Alice cheered, inciting Sadie to clap too.

"Now we just have to tell Jacqui," Andrea said. "And everyone's all in…I'll pick out the songs…you'll work on the routines. We're going to win this."

"If I'm doing this," Michonne said. "You better believe we're going to win this…"

"That's the spirit!" Alice declared. "Way to get in the game, sport!"

Andrea laughed.

"Al…it's just because Michonne hates to lose," Andrea declared.

"I hate losing too," Alice said. "Fuck losing…we're winning…and then I'm going to make Salty's rue the day that they thought free drinks would be the cheap way out of this thing."

Carol laughed and shook her head.

She didn't know if they'd win or lose…but she was pretty sure that they'd have a hell of a time doing whichever it was.

When the doorbell rang, Carol got to her feet quickly and went over, already knowing it was Jacqui. She opened the door and Jacqui passed inside, dropping her purse by the door.

"What did I miss?" Jacqui asked.

"Nothing yet," Carol said. "I think we were just about to start drinking…and discussing how we're all about to make our pop music debut."

Jacqui looked at her like she was crazy and then glanced over in the direction of where Michonne and Andrea were sitting on the couch.

"What is she talking about?" Jacqui asked.

"Before you say no," Andrea declared, "it's for the children…"


	33. Chapter 33

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Carol had no idea what time it was…but what she did know was that this little party was likely to turn into a massive slumber party…because she wasn't sure that everyone there could even find their cars, less likely operate them.

And she wasn't nearly as far gone as some people were…but she still didn't feel that she was in the best shape to up and try to get back to her home.

Michonne and Andrea were trying to figure out how to cue Sadie in for the different parts of the dances…considering they'd already decided on their intro dance and Sadie was something of their main feature…though Michonne had been careful to keep her back to Sadie the whole time she explained to them that if she set it up this way and Sadie just lost completely what was going on…it would look like they planned it and she didn't have to feel like she'd goofed up or something.

Michonne had Sadie pulled against her, Sadie's back to her chest, and she was attempting, from what Carol could tell, to teach her in the most bizarre way possible how to "memorize" the beat to the song…while Andrea was in front of her and repeating back everything Michonne said like a battery operated parrot.

"Michonne's already at third base," Alice declared from the position on the floor that she'd taken by Carol's feet. "Michonne! Watch your hand placement…you're groping…"

"I'm not groping…I'm directing…" Michonne said.

"Well you can get arrested for that in almost every state," Alice responded.

Carol accepted another drink from Jacqui who came through carrying everything that had been ordered by everyone else and demonstrating that her ability to carry things from the café was paying off now in almost every situation.

"What is happening here?" Jacqui asked, sitting down near Carol and watching what Michonne was doing.

"The makings of a lesbian porno," Alice declared, doing something with her phone that was probably going to get back to Michonne.

"This is kinda turning me on," Andrea said. "Is it doing anything for you?" She asked, leaning closer to Sadie.

Sadie laughed at Andrea and Michonne stopped narrating what she was doing…or what she thought she was doing…and stood there for a moment.

"Turn it off…" she said to Andrea. Andrea reached over and switched off the music at about the same time as the door opened and Tyreese came in, knocking his shoes off loudly.

He looked around at all of them, furrowing his brows.

"Hi Ty," Carol declared with a smile, sipping from her drink.

"Hi Carol…" Tyreese said. "Do I…do I want to know what's going on here?"

Michonne broke away from her hold on Sadie then and Sadie went about rearranging all the clothing that had gotten shifted here and there during her odd dance instruction.

"We're teaching Sadie how to dance," Michonne said, crossing the room in a bit more crooked of a line than she probably intended to kiss Tyreese.

He kissed her back and then stood there, holding her to him with his arm around her back.

"Are you ladies staying the night? Because…" And he stopped talking, but Carol could already fill in the rest. He probably had doubts about their sobriety…and the empty bottles on the coffee table where they'd finished off "this little bit" and "that little bit" probably aided in that assumption.

"I'm going…" Andrea said, looking at her phone and obviously trying to text. "I'm going…somewhere…"

She laughed at herself and that gave everyone permission to laugh at her.

"I called T already," Jacqui announced. "I wasn't going to drink…"

She looked at the glass in her hand.

"But I did…" she finished up.

Carol took out her phone and texted Daryl. She wasn't as intoxicated as some of her friends, but she wasn't driving home…so she'd either stay the night, get Ty to take her if he was offering…or if Daryl was interested, she'd let him pick her up.

"Carol? Home…or what?" Tyreese asked, tapping her on the top of the head with his finger as he stood behind her chair.

"Hold on…" she said. "I'm finding out…"

"Alice?" Tyreese asked.

"Well I'm not driving," Alice said.

"And you are?" He asked Sadie, but she wans't paying him any attention and Michonne spoke up.

"That's Sadie," Michonne said. "She's the one I'm teaching to dance…because Andrea thought that we should all get dressed up and act like idiots."

"It's for the children," Andrea mumbled.

"Well is Sadie going home?" Tyreese asked.

"She's with Alice," Michonne said. "I guess…"

"She might be with Michonne after that dance," Alice offered, leaning her head back against Carol's leg. Carol scratched at her head and jumped when her phone went off.

"I got a ride," Carol said.

Andrea laughed from across the room.

"I did too…but Merle said…that they've got to go to their house...and get Daryl's truck," Andrea said.

She grinned and shook her head at Carol.

"We're not going to the same place…" Andrea declared.

"Alice," Tyreese said. "Am I taking you and…"

"Sadie…" Alice offered.

"Sadie home or are you staying here?" Tyreese asked.

"Home…" Alice declared, getting up from where she was. "My house…we'll be fine there…you can just leave us in the yard…"

Tyreese laughed.

"I'm not leaving anyone in the yard…but if you're going, the train is leaving now," Tyreese said. "Everyone out that's going…at least by my taxi."

Everyone said goodbye to Alice and Sadie since they were the only two apparently leaving via Tyreese's taxi and Michonne declared that she would pick Alice up in the morning to come get her car…and Sadie's by extension.

They had barely left before Jacqui got the call that her ride was waiting, and Carol and Andrea got phone calls, one right after the other, declaring that their rides would be there soon enough that they could start out the door.

Carol waited until Andrea passed out the door and she hugged Michonne, thanking her and telling her to have a good night, and then she slipped out the house where Andrea was waiting for her at the bottom of the porch steps to link arms with her and walk her down the driveway to where Daryl and Merle were pulled off to the side, one truck behind the other, probably confused about the amount of traffic in the yard.

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"So ya do this often?" Daryl asked, closing Carol's door behind him. She put her purse on the table and got rid of her shoes immediately, sighing at the feeling of them coming off.

"We try to…" Carol said. "It's hard sometimes, but we try to keep setting things up when we can. You should meet everyone."

Daryl chuckled.

"I know I shouldn't ask this…but'cha wanna drink?" He asked.

Carol laughed at him and nodded her head.

"Why not?" She responded. "I'm drinking vodka, though…I don't like to mix…"

"Smart woman," Daryl declared. "Go…sit down…I'll bring it to ya…what'cha want it mixed with?"

"Just…" Carol paused. He didn't know how to mix the drinks that Jacqui had been making and she didn't know how to tell him what they were. "Just orange juice," Carol finished after a moment.

"Got it," Daryl responded. "Go…sit…"

She took his advice and went into the living room, getting comfortable on the couch. He passed in a few moments later and handed her a drink, holding his own in his hand.

"Thank you," Carol said to him when she took the drink. "You should…you know?"

"Should what?" Daryl asked, sitting down. It was only then that he produced the bottle from under his arm and Carol realized he was very clearly planning on playing catch up with her. He sat the whiskey bottle down on the table and reclined back against the couch.

"Should meet my friends…" Carol said.

Daryl made a face.

"What? What's that face?" Carol asked.

Daryl took a swallow of his drink and then sucked his teeth.

"You go meetin' a woman's friends…that's serious," Daryl said. "That's like some meet the parents shit…ya don't just spring that on somebody…"

Carol frowned at him.

"You don't want to meet my friends?" She asked.

He just looked at her.

"Is that too serious for you?" She asked.

"Hey now!" Daryl declared, reaching over and patting her leg with his hand. "You're drunk…don't'cha go puttin' damn words in my mouth…"

"I'm not drunk," Carol protested.

Daryl chuckled and nodded his head at her slowly.

"You are drunk…ya ain't trashed…an' ya ain't just gone…but'cha drunk…an' I don't wanna fight 'cause ya takin' shit outta context," Daryl said.

"I said meet my friends…you said it's too serious…what's the context?" Carol asked.

Daryl shook his head and took another swallow of his own drink.

"How do you feel about…cats?" Daryl asked.

Carol raised her eyebrows at him, questioning for a moment her level of sobriety. She'd thought that she wasn't that drunk…but suddenly she was concerned.

"Cats?" She asked.

Daryl nodded his head.

"I like cats…" she said, not sure if she even understood the question.

"Good…" Daryl said. "Me…I don't mind 'em…more of a dog person myself…dogs is more loyal…maybe? Cats just seem kinda…tricky…hard ta figure out…dogs is much more straightforward. Dog pretends it likes ya…it usually means it likes ya…"

Carol shifted around and sat up, leaning close to Daryl.

"How did we end up on cats?" Carol asked.

"Ya like dogs too, or just cats?" Daryl asked.

And it was only then that Carol noticed the smirk that Daryl was fighting back. He didn't dare to take a drink from his glass, even though it hovered near his lips, and she suspected it was because that the move to do so would break the smirk into either a full smile or a laugh.

She swatted at him.

"You're just trying to change the subject!" She said.

He laughed then.

"About them dogs…" he said.

"OK…OK!" Carol declared. "We won't talk about it…do you like to dance?"

Daryl raised an eyebrow at her.

"Dance?" He asked.

She nodded and he laughed.

"What about me told'ja I prob'ly like ta dance?" He asked.

Carol ignored him and got up. She went about setting up her stereo to play…something that she was usually very good at doing quickly but was clumsily stumbling through at the moment…and finally got it turned on.

"Come on…let's dance," she said, taking another drink before resting her glass on the table.

Daryl looked at her like she'd just suggested that she douse them both in gasoline and light a match to see what might happen.

She laughed at his expression and walked over to him, holding her hand out at him. He drained the rest of the contents in his glass and looked at her outstretched hand. She wiggled her fingers at him, trying to entice him to take her hand.

"I don't like ta dance," he said, shaking his head. "I don't…really…I can't dance…"

"Anyone can dance," Carol said. "I saw a deaf woman do it for like two hours straight today…you can dance…come on…"

Daryl shook his head at her.

"Bet'cha that woman dances better'n I do," he said. "Don't dance…ain't good at it…"

Carol dropped her arm and went to get her drink, sipping from it. He looked relieved, as though he thought that she'd given up, but she hadn't given up. She was merely switching her strategy.

She put her drink back on the table and took her position again.

"You don't have to dance well," she said. "I'm the only one you've got to impress."

She held her hand out to him again.

"I'm already impressed…" she offered. "I'll just be more impressed if you dance…it's slow music, Daryl."

She bit her lip to keep from laughing at his facial expression, but he finally gave the dramatic growl of an overgrown child and took her hand, getting to his feet.

"You laugh at me…an' the dance is over," Daryl muttered as she pulled him to the middle of the living room floor.

She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head against him. He was tense…she could feel every muscle in his back through his shirt and she kneaded his back gently with her hands as she forced him into the stiff legged sway that she could figure was about as close to dancing as they were going to get.

"See? Not so bad?" She asked after a moment.

He finally relaxed a little, putting his arms around her and giving in a little more to the rhythmless swaying that was taking place.

"S'alright," he commented.

She pulled away enough to look at him, his face not quite so annoyed as it had been before.

"It's nice…" Carol said, making an effort to rub against him more than she naturally was with her body. He swallowed visibly and looked at her, one eyebrow cocked. She smiled. "It's just like having sex…except on your feet."

He dipped his head, kissing her, and she responded to it, rubbing her hands up and down his back.

When he pulled away, he tightened for a second the grip that he had on her with his arms locked behind her back.

"I like doin' it better off my feet…" Daryl commented.

"That's the part that comes after the dance," Carol remarked, leaning her head back against his chest.


	34. Chapter 34

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Carol groaned when her alarm went off and became aware of her surroundings and the thumping around of Daryl who was apparently already up.

"Feel like shit?" He asked, coming into the bedroom and offering her a glass of water.

She sat up and took it. Water wasn't usually her preferred beverage in the morning, unless it had been brewed into coffee, but she'd take it at the moment to fight off the desert that was her mouth.

"I have to call Jacqui," she said. "Tell her I'm going to be late…you brought me home…I don't have my car."

Daryl sat down on the bed, rolling Carol a little toward him and she caught herself to keep from spilling the water into the bed with her.

"I'll take ya ta get'cha car," Daryl offered. "Or…ta work or whatever ya want."

Carol smiled at him.

She didn't feel as bad as she might feel…she hadn't drank as much as she'd done on some of the nights when, like the night before, she'd intended to only have two drinks and ended up losing count somewhere along the way.

And she thought it was nice that Daryl had stayed the night…and that he was offering to help her out with her current predicament…again not one that happened a lot, but certainly wasn't one that she could say had never happened before.

"If you could take me to work," she said, "then I could find someone to run me over to Michonne's later…T could take me because I'm sure he's got to take Jacqui."

"Whole damn town's linked together," Daryl said with a chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

Carol sucked down what was left of the water, impressing herself at her ability to drink nearly a whole glass without stopping for breath, and then she nodded.

"Yeah…we are," she said. And in a lot of ways it was true. Their little group, through relationships and family members had tendrils that spread throughout the town. They created, almost, a hub for most of the comings and goings.

Daryl cleared his throat and nipped at his thumb.

"You…uh…ya care if I take ya in early?" He asked. "I kinda don't got no clothes…gotta go back ta my place ta get ready…don't wanna be too damn late."

Carol smiled.

"It's fine for me to go in early," she said. "There's always something to do there…get ready for the day. And I'll text Tyreese…tell him that you're taking me in and going to be a little late."

She winked at him before she pushed herself up to get out of the bed and start throwing herself together for a full day.

"I'm in pretty good with his boss," she said with a giggle as she got up.

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"Andrea's got costume ideas already," Jacqui said to Carol as they went through assembling some of the sandwiches that had been ordered. Both of them had learned, since they opened the café, that flexibility was something that they had to have…there was no telling what jobs they might end up covering in a day when they were short staffed or someone was late.

"Andrea probably came up with costumes before she left Salty's signing up," Carol said. "What are they?"

Jacqui shook her head.

"Well…now I don't know all the details yet…but I know that Dancing Queen is the first one we're doing and everyone gets a color…" Jacqui said. "And I know that the words "tasteful schoolgirl uniform" were used in reference to the second set of costumes…"

Carol laughed before she could stop herself.

"Tasteful schoolgirl uniform?" She asked. She shook her head. "No…no…has Michonne heard this?"

Jacqui snorted.

"Not yet…but you know she will," Jacqui responded.

"Andrea's too racy to have been left in charge of costumes," Carol said. "We're going to be lucky if the lot of us isn't locked up for indecent exposure."

"But she's creative and she's enthusiastic," Jacqui responded. "That makes her the best choice."

"Well so is Alice," Carol said.

"Alice also has a tendency to forget things…" Jacqui said. "We don't need to show up to do this thing and her shrug and say that we can just wear what we've got on…we get judged on costumes too."

Carol laughed a little to herself.

She thought it was going to be a lot of fun to do the whole competition. Clearly Andrea thought it was going to be fun too…and if both of them signed up the businesses for donations, it would also give exposure to the café and the salon.

Alice was likely on board for the fun too, though she was driven to win things when she got involved.

Carol couldn't say much for Sadie, but judging by what she'd seen of the woman's personality she imagined she was in it entirely for the fun of it.

Michonne and Jacqui, both, though, would be more in it for the winning than they would be for the fun. Carol had no doubt that they'd enjoy themselves…that would come naturally…but their focus in the whole competition would be the end result and the bottom line, so to speak.

The competitive natures of the various women, in fact, had led to the group very nearly outlawing any kind of game to be played at any of their gatherings when, more than once, the winning and losing of a game had nearly driven some of them to blows.

"You do realize we might not win," Carol ventured, passing the plates over the top of the counter to one of the girls that was waiting to deliver them to tables and then going for the orders that had been dropped off during their assembly of the food that was now on its way to the people who would be enjoying it shortly.

Jacqui scoffed at her.

"And why wouldn't we win?" Jacqui asked. "We've got this…"

Carol laughed and shook her head.

"Don't get me wrong…I mean I want to win too, but we're…well, we're up against whoever wants to sign up and you can bet we're not going to be the only ones that want to win…we might be up against a gaggle of high school cheerleaders or gymnasts or something…even people who can really dance…" Carol offered.

"There's more to the judging than just the dancing," Jacqui said. "And you better believe that we're letting them know that Sadie's stone cold deaf."

"You think she's going to be that bad?" Carol asked.

Jacqui shook her head.

"No…I think it's going to look really amazing when we make sure she's that _good_," Jacqui said.

"OK…I just don't want anyone's feelings getting hurt if we lose," Carol said.

"We're not going to lose," Jacqui said frankly. "I know these things…"

Carol laughed and nodded her head. Whether or not they would win was something that she wouldn't have promised either way…but apparently the important thing was simply believing that they would win and moving on with that premise.

"T wasn't mad you drank last night?" Carol asked.

She knew that he wasn't…he never was…but it was a way of making conversation.

And Jacqui was almost famous at their gatherings for being the one that "wasn't going to drink"…and that lasted right up until she had "just the one" which then gave over into the world of not caring at all. She was so well known, in fact, for doing this that T usually tried to insist that he would simply take her to the parties and leave her there, coming back to pick her up whenever it struck her fancy.

But it didn't work out that way because Jacqui, as everyone knew, wasn't going to drink.

"I'd like to see him be mad about it," Jacqui said with a laugh, shuffling around some of the orders, putting finished plates up to be picked up and bringing over new plates to work with. She disappeared for a moment, putting in some orders for hot food with the cook, and then came back. "Especially after some of the poker games he gets involved in. If I can keep my cool with him when he can't even pronounce my name…he can hold his tongue if I have a little more to drink than I intended."

Carol hummed her agreement.

Jacqui and T had been together forever it seemed. They'd raised one son to theoretical adulthood and they were the epitome of the happily married couple. The only catch being that they had never married and they weren't likely to do so…whether or not too many people in town were even aware of the fact anymore. In fact, most people just assumed they'd gotten married in secret and were keeping it to themselves, no matter how quick they were to correct this false piece of information circulated around the area.

The truth was that Jacqui proclaimed herself to be "against" marriage. She claimed that marriage…simply the institute of it…ruined relationships because it put an unhealthy stress on them. It made people feel like they "had" to stay together and therefore made them less likely to work on their differences and less likely to keep redefining their relationships. She also claimed that she was uncomfortable with commitment, though her long term monogamous relationship begged to differ.

Still, it seemed to work for them and their relationship had seen them through a lot of rough patches in the road and outlasted a good number of marriages that Carol could think of…her own included.

"So…Daryl…" Jacqui said. "Stayed the night again?"

Carol nodded her head and Jacqui offered her a raised eyebrow and a thinly veiled smile.

"What's going on there, Carol?" Jacqui asked. "How many dates is this?"

Carol shrugged.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't even think I know anymore what constitutes as a date…"

"Sounds serious," Jacqui said.

Carol shrugged again.

"It is what it is, I guess," Carol said.

But she couldn't keep from smiling a little when she thought about it. She honestly didn't know what was going on with her and Daryl. She was trying, at least for now, to keep from trying to cram the whole thing into a clearly defined box. She wasn't sure what she was looking for and what she expected at the moment…and she certainly wasn't sure what the future might hold. And she suspected that Daryl was much the same. They were simply playing it by ear for the time being. And Carol liked it that way.

"He…stayed last night," Carol said. "And…he brought me this morning…and I'm thinking of telling him that he can bring some clothes…only if he wants to…for mornings that he stays over and has to work."

"So you're moving him in?" Jacqui asked.

Carol shook her head.

"No…I wouldn't say that," Carol said. "I'm just…"

She stopped what she was doing for a moment and then reminded herself to get back to work as they shuffled food around in an attempt to keep control on the lunch crowd. Soon the rush would be over…but they couldn't afford to slow down too much or people would start to complain and that was never good for business…especially a small business like theirs.

"I don't know what I want," Carol admitted. "I don't know what I want…and I don't know what I expect. I like Daryl…and I like how this is going…but I don't want to make it go anywhere that it's not going…you know what I mean?"

Jacqui hummed.

"I know exactly what you mean," Jacqui said.

She fell silent for a moment, focusing on her work and shuffling the plates about as Carol went for the orders…only a few this time which indicated that they were hitting a lull soon…and came back with them so that they could start preparing the next few dishes.

"I think it's a good thing," Jacqui said.

Carol glanced at her and raised an eyebrow in question. Which part of this scenario, exactly, would Jacqui think was the good part?

"That you're just letting it be what it is," Jacqui said. "That's really what you need…at least I think that's what you need."

"Oh?" Carol asked.

"Mmmmm hmmm…" Jacqui hummed. "Get what you want out of it…if it works out that's great. If it doesn't…you got something out of it, didn't you?"

Carol chuckled.

"Oh…I'd say I'm getting something out of it," Carol said, teasing Jacqui a little with her tone.

"Then there you go," Jacqui said. "It starts to get complicated when you start…trying to label it. That's why T and I have never tried to put a name on what we are…we're together, for as long as we want to be…that's all we need."

Carol smiled.

"I think you and I are a little different," Carol said. "I mean…I like knowing what things are…I appreciate the labels. But…"

She paused.

"But I'm not in a hurry to put a label on it," Carol said.

Jacqui hummed in consideration at that as well.

"Then don't," Jacqui said. "You like labels? Then do labels…but you be the one deciding what the hell you put on the label…and you want to offer him a drawer to bring his stuff over…offer him a drawer. I guess…even if you ask him to stay every night…you don't have to say he's moved in. You don't have to call it anything you don't want to call it. Just do what you want to do."

Carol nodded.

"That's exactly what I am doing," Carol said. "What I want…"


	35. Chapter 35

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. Sorry, this one isn't too exciting. It's sort of a filler/bridge type chapter.**

**Sorry I've been MIA, but I've had guests that have kept me entirely away from my computer and now I'm catching up on all the work that I was also on vacation from. I'm trying to update when and where I can, though. Please be patient with me! Real life is a bear sometimes!**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl sat at the table picking at what was left of his French fries while Merle lounged in the seat across from him, nursing probably his fourth beer, and chewing on a toothpick. They'd come to join Axel for dinner and drinks after work since no one had anything more interesting to do with their evening.

"Talent competition," Axel mused, looking at the plastic coated flier that he picked up off the edge of the table. Salty's had them stuck everywhere that they could put them, all advertising the big day that was rolling up when various groups would take place in whatever the hell it was that was going on…some kind of lip syncing and dancing extravaganza that Daryl figured was more to give people an excuse to make asses out of themselves. "You gotta be pretty bored to do somethin' like this this," Axel continued.

Merle chuckled across the table because, like Daryl, he'd already heard about the thing and didn't need the laminated table decorations to inform him that it was coming up and that it was apparently something very serious to those that were participating in it.

"Damn woman thing," Merle said. "Excuse ta get all dressed up an' flounce around. Big damn waste a' time if ya ask me."

Axel glanced at Merle and turned his attention back to the piece of paper that he was looking at, studying it more carefully than really was necessary for the scanty amount of information that it gave.

After a moment he seemed satisfied with his perusal and he reached over Daryl and what was left of the potatoes, the last food on the table, that Daryl didn't really want to return the flier to its designated home.

"Says it's for kids, though," Axel said. "Hell…good cause if you gonna do somethin' ridiculous…you comin' for it?"

Merle cleared his throat and nodded.

"Yeah…gotta be here. Andrea done threatened me if I don't come out ta support her ass. She's showin' off with a buncha her damn friends," Merle said, looking toward Daryl.

Daryl flicked his eyes at his brother but studied his French fries again after that.

"Worst damn part about it," Merle said, "is that I ain't seen her ass in damn near a week an' a half an' I ain't likely ta see her before it…they takin' it real serious like, practicin' every damn day at somethin' or other…workin' on they clothes. Daryl's lil' sweet thang's in it too."

Axel looked at Daryl, smirking for the moment.

"You comin' too, then?" Axel asked after he'd held the look long enough to satisfy himself.

Daryl shrugged.

"Yeah…reckon I'll come down an' see 'em," he said.

"Might find me someone up in this bunch you both got tangled up with," Axel declared. "They seem the kind ta stick…I don't think in all the years I've known Merle he's ever had one hang on long as this chick."

Merle chuckled across the table.

"Hell…all the women I ever known ain't been like this one," Merle declared. "This here show keepin' her busy where she can't come over is the first proof I had that I ain't been mixin' it up with a buncha damn women all happen ta look the same an' like bein' called the same damn name."

He laughed to himself and rubbed at his face.

Daryl could tell that Merle liked what he had right now…and he was obviously holding onto it with both hands. The greatest proof had come in the past week and a half because, knowing Merle, he wouldn't have held out that long fueled only by text messages, late night phone calls, and the promise that if he just kept his pants on some woman who wasn't bothering to see him at all would be back and looking for more.

Merle would normally have had at least one other little fling in the meantime, but he seemed content to wait on Andrea, no matter what she was doing.

And Daryl hadn't seen much of Carol either.

She'd called him nearly every night to report on what they were doing…how things were going…to give him details that he didn't bother to listen to with any real conviction about the performance that they were all so damn excited about but he just figured was a waste of time down at Salty's to kill a weekend…and every time he'd tried to invite himself over for the night she'd declared that she was too tired, she was going to bed early, or she had something else to do here or there that just made it more or less inconvenient.

And even though Daryl couldn't really explain it and wasn't trying to he, like Merle, was waiting all the excitement out.

"I don't think none a' they lil' friends is single," Merle said after a moment, picking at the edge of the table. "Don't think you gonna strike it rich in there…but hell, they's bound ta be women comin' outta the damn woodworks with this thing goin' on. Come down here…have some drinks…an' scope out the losin' groups as they fall."

Daryl and Axel both looked at Merle a little bewildered, hoping for some explanation. He looked at them both, his face set in a blank expression of having said what was, to him, the most obvious thing ever, and then he shrugged and left off picking at the table to wave a hand out to them with his clarification.

"Losers gonna be pretty damn depressed," Merle explained. "You scope out who the hell loses, buy 'em some drinks…an' right there you got'cha a sure damn thing."

He paused a moment and then chuckled when both of them nodded their heads slightly, taking in his argument.

"Don't you fuckers know nothin'? Damn simple minded…that's why the hell ya single Axel…an' why the hell you ain't never found the honey in the hive you been lookin' for…too damn dense for ya own good," Merle said.

Daryl might have taken offense to what his brother was saying, but he knew him well enough by now to know that Merle insulted people as a way of everyday communication. The more often that Merle flung some random insult in your direction, the more he liked you. If he didn't care for you, he'd simply walk away and leave you in silence…because looking for something smart ass to say took effort that Merle wasn't going to waste on just anybody.

And Axel had known him long enough too that nothing much bothered him. Instead of taking it to heart, he laughed it off and nodded his head at the fact that he wouldn't have thought to come down here, armed with cash for buying drinks, so that he could woo some woman who had just had her hopes and dreams of superstardom at Salty's dashed to the rocks.

"Carol bugged you about comin' down yet?" Merle asked.

Daryl nodded his head.

"Well," he said after he thought about it for a moment, "not really bugged me…I mean she said she was doin' it an' she'd like me ta come…ain't said I gotta come or nothin'…" Daryl said.

He chuckled to himself.

"Hell, ain't seen her since this shit started…so I figure I'll come just ta see if I still recognize her ass," he added.

That got some laughter out of his drinking companions.

When the waitress came and took the plate from in front of him, all of them put in their orders for other drinks to come and Daryl shifted around in his seat so that his posture more resembled the relaxed posture of Axel and Merle.

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"Here," Andrea said, flinging the dress that was Carol's in her direction. "Put this on…make sure it fits."

Carol looked at the dress. She'd been "involved" in the costumes only so far as that they'd had her take measurements, but it had Andrea that had designed them and Jacqui with the help of an acquaintance that she had who was better even than she was at sewing who had brought them to life using mostly clothes that Andrea found at a second hand store in town.

Carol held the dress up and looked at it.

"No…Andrea, this is way too short," she declared.

Andrea shook her head.

"If that dress is too short then you're underwear's too long," Andrea said. "Put it on. We already changed on set of costumes because of Michonne and we don't have time before the show to change the other set."

Carol sighed and stripped out of her clothes in Andrea's bedroom, wrestling her way into the dress that she would have only been able to describe as a purple mini dress. She loved the color, but she would have been lying if she'd pretended that she wasn't a little self-conscious in the tight, short outfit that was being suggested to her.

Andrea came around without being asked and zipped up the back of it, drawing the dress in to be even more form fitting than it had originally appeared to be.

"That looks amazing!" Andrea declared, backing up a little.

She was grinning from ear to ear…and why not? She was seeing her visualization for everything come to life.

They had three days before the show and if they weren't ready, they never would be. They had their dances pretty well down and they weren't too bad, though Carol thought they might all be biased. They had no idea what anyone else was doing or how well they were prepared…they might only think they were doing well at this until they got up there and saw what they were up against.

"I'm not sure about this," Carol said, going over and examining herself in the full length mirror that Andrea kept hung right behind her bedroom door. "What has everyone else said?"

Andrea laughed and sashayed over in Carol's direction to stand behind her, reaching her hands down and tugging a little at the bottom of the dress to flatten out the few wrinkles that remained from Carol's working into it.

"They're dealing with it," Andrea said. "And you're going to deal with it too. Run down to the store and get yourself some purple panties…just in case…and you'll feel better. You've got your shoes for everything?"

Carol nodded her head.

"The only thing I've got left to pick up is the tie," Carol said. "For the second number…am I going to match Alice or are we going with different colors for that one too?"

Andrea shook her head and moved so that Carol could come away from the mirror. As Carol reached behind her and wrestled with the zipper, Andrea reached around and pulled it down, giving Carol her freedom once more.

"Matching," Andrea said. "She hasn't picked hers up either and I texted Sadie to tell her that she needed to get one for her…you want me to tell her just to pick up two so you don't have to worry about it?"

Carol nodded and started to get into her comfortable and covering clothes as quickly as she could, seeking in them some kind of reparation for her self-conscious feelings.

"That would be great," she responded while Andrea set to sending a message to the woman that had taken a great deal of interest in playing along with Andrea and working as something of an apprentice to her.

"Do you think we're even going to make it through all the numbers?" Carol asked when she was dressed. She crossed the room and sat on Andrea's bed beside the pile of clothes that the woman had collected together…all of them finally sized and tested by everyone in the group. "I mean…all jokes aside…you think we're actually going anywhere past "Dancing Queen?"

Andrea nodded her head.

"I guarantee it," she said. "We're good…and we don't need to go up there with some lack of confidence. We're going up there knowing we're going to win."

Carol nodded her head slightly.

"So what's left to do?" She asked.

Andrea shrugged slightly and went through her phone. By now Carol knew that she had everything in her phone's notebook…it was probably the most organized that Andrea had been in years.

"A couple of people still need shoes," she said. "Sadie's getting the ties…we know all the costumes fit…we're really all set."

"Is Merle coming?" Carol asked.

Andrea looked at her and raised an eyebrow at her.

"He better be…if he thinks I'm going home with him…he better be there to see my show," Andrea said.

Carol laughed at her tone of voice.

"Daryl?" Andrea asked after a second, abandoning her phone for the moment and tossing it onto the bed.

Carol nodded her head.

"He doesn't seem too impressed," Carol said, "but he says he's coming…"

Andrea smiled at her.

"He's going to be impressed when he sees that dress," she teased, wagging her eyebrows at Carol.


	36. Chapter 36

**AN: Here we go, another chapter. I'm going to say that there are going to be several chapters surrounding the performance…simply because that's the way that I want to do it. Ha ha ha! **

**Sorry about that…but here's the first one! **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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In all the times that Daryl had bothered to come to Salty's, he'd never seen the place so overflowing with people. They were everywhere and he, Merle, and Axel had almost had to form a human chain to make it from the entrance to the bar for drinks and then over to one of the few tables that Merle, with his infinite charm, had managed to clear so that they could sit and watch the show.

By the time they were settled in, Daryl was already ready to go home. He didn't care much for performances like this and he was only there to support Carol and her friends when they got out there on stage…if they hadn't missed them, since they'd arrived a good deal after the thing supposedly had started.

They sat through several numbers of groups, each coming out, announcing who they were…or rather what number their group was identified under…and who they were sponsored by. From what Daryl could tell, the voting system was based on the people there who could vote by giving money at the bar to the jars designated for each group, and apparently there were judges too, but Daryl wasn't sure who they were or how they were being driven to judge the competition.

He recognized more than a few faces that he knew, but he didn't see Carol anywhere and it was beginning to make him sweat that maybe they'd missed the performance altogether and both Carol and Andrea had high tailed it out of there, pissed off at their inability to arrive at anything on time.

But his concerns were quickly laid to rest when Andrea, dressed in the tightest dress he'd ever seen, brightly colored and barely long enough to constitute as more than a low-cut, long shirt, came out onto the relatively small stage area that Salty's usually reserved for their weekend performances of various bad local bands that played there from time to time as some kind of "crowd pleaser" for those who frequented the place with the same regularity as his brother.

Merle let out a loud whistle and then laughed at himself, glancing around the table to see if he'd amused Axel or Daryl with his cat calling.

He wasn't the only one cat calling, though, and Andrea seemed to be an expert at ignoring them for the most part, though she did take something of a small bow and smiled broadly at the crowd before picking up the microphone that was on the corner of the stage for each group to announce themselves.

"My name is Andrea Harrison," Andrea said, clearing her throat after the words and glancing at a piece of paper that she had in her hand. "Our group consists of six women…we're sponsored by BellaRose, by the Pamper Palace, and by Helping Hands Handymen…and by Johnson and Scott Law Offices…we're number 17, that's one, seven, and we'd like to encourage everyone to vote…for donations of twenty dollars or more, there are gift certificates available to our sponsors…so get out there and vote!"

She laughed at herself and Daryl could tell that she was uncomfortable with speaking in front of everyone. It showed pretty clearly since her face very nearly matched the bright colors of her dress. He couldn't blame her, though, since he doubted he'd be able to remember his name if he was up there, let alone all the other information.

Andrea started to put the microphone down and there was some rustling with the temporary curtain that they'd hung…a curtain that had all the style and flair of a few shower curtains quickly thrown together for just such an event…and then she picked the microphone back up.

"Sorry…we're group seventeen and we're doing "Dancing Queen," Andrea added quickly before putting the microphone down, ignoring the scattered bits of applause going on, and almost running through the rudimentary curtain.

Merle reached over and swatted Daryl hard enough on the arm that it stung a little.

"Better pay attention ta this one, brother," Merle said with a chuckle.

Daryl snickered.

"If that's what Andrea's wearin'…you just hopin' she busts her ass an' shows the world her damn panties," Daryl responded back.

Merle laughed in response.

"Hell…if I know her at all…she ain't wearin' none," Merle growled back.

Daryl was one of those people who didn't care for ABBA…he didn't hate their music, but he just didn't care for it all that much…so it was only when the song started to play, just after the poor guy who had the shit job of opening and closing the bath curtains had done his task, that he even recognized what they would be dancing to.

When he first focused his attention on the women, there were five of them, not six…and he immediately found Carol and almost spit the swallow of beer he'd just taken out through his nose. He'd figured she would be dressed differently than Andrea…and she was, but only in the color of their dresses.

"Hoooolyyyy," Merle howled before he stuck his fingers into his mouth and let out shrill whistle.

Of course Merle would do that that…there were more legs and breasts up on that stage than in a family sized bucket of chicken.

Axel looked dumbstruck and Daryl wasn't sure how anyone had any ability to follow what the hell was happening in the dance that they'd created, now that the sixth woman had joined them, for at least a moment while they wrapped their minds around the skin tight dresses that everyone was sporting.

Daryl hoped that Carol was keeping that dress…he'd like to have a closer look at it if time allowed for such a thing.

Merle clapped him on the arm again and he was almost reluctant to drag his eyes away from what was happening on stage…and he wasn't even sure the dance was all that impressive.

"I just figured out where the hell I know ya damn girlfriend from!" Merle spat. "The woman up there…the damn one in the middle…wearin' the light blue? That's my redhead!"

Daryl tore his eyes away long enough to raise an eyebrow at Merle.

"What the fuck ya yammerin' about?" Daryl asked.

"The redhead…the damn redhead I was tryin' ta talk up the night Carol doused ya ass in Blue Lagoon or whatever the hell that drink is…the dyke?" Merle said, apparently riled up because he was amused at what he was trying to spit out at Daryl.

Daryl remembered being doused in the blue drink quite well…though the redhead in question had faded into the tapestry of all the other conquests, failed or not, that Merle had throughout his life.

"Yeah? So?" Daryl asked, turning his eyes back to the women.

"That's the dyke!" Merle said. "Carol was the other damn dyke! I knew her ass was familiar…but I figured I fixed a damn sink or some shit for her…didn't realize she was a damn dyke though…"

The song ended up being much shorter than Daryl thought it should be because already the performance was drawing to a close. The women on stage were taking their bow and it was the first time that he took a moment to scan them. Carol he knew and Andrea he knew…as his eyes settled over them, he recognized another woman that worked at Carol's little café and he was pretty damn sure that one of the women was his boss's wife…though he'd never seen as much of her as he was seeing at the moment.

And he never thought he'd be sad to see the end of an ABBA song…but he was at that moment.

He clapped, along with quite a few others, in support of the dance or in support of the costumes…everyone having their own reasons for doing what they did…and then he finally turned his attention back to his brother who was eating through a bowl of pretzels with a dazed smirk on his face.

"Now…what the fuck you on about?" Daryl asked.

Merle laughed and offered Daryl the basket of pretzels, which he refused, before he spoke again.

"The redhead was a dyke," Merle said.

Daryl shrugged.

"They was three damnn dykes that night all in a little damn caravan…run out like they asses was on fire…one a' them damn dykes was ya girlfriend," Merle said.

Axel, poor man, clued in at that moment…or either the shock of the performers wore off for him.

"You datin' a dyke, Daryl?" Axel asked.

Daryl shook his head.

"Carol ain't no dyke," Daryl said.

Merle laughed.

"You don't know that shit…" Merle said.

Daryl gave him a look.

"Reckon I'd know better'n you would, asshole," Daryl said. "She ain't a dyke…she mighta been with the dyke…or hell…maybe ya damn redhead ain't no dyke neither…maybe she just ain't want'cha greasy ass around her."

Merle laughed and burrowed around in his back pocket. He came up with some money and flung it in Axel's direction.

"Here…take this shit up ta the bar an' vote for 'em…Andrea's comin' her ass home tonight with me an' she's gon' be a whole lot happier if they winnin' this shit…" Merle declared.

Daryl took his cue from his brother and passed a bill from his wallet toward Axel.

Axel glanced toward the crowded area near the bar and sucked his teeth.

"Man…I don't wanna go up there," he protested.

"Go on," Merle growled. "Your skinny ass can get through better'n we can…'sides…give ya a chance ta check out if they's any lil' girls up there you might wanta play with…"

Axel made a face and Daryl chuckled at him.

"Bring us some beers on ya way back," Daryl said. "They make it to the next round an' I'll go next time."

Axel seemed somewhat satisfied with the plan and slid off the stool, making his way slowly through the people standing around, drinking, and watching those that were performing now…people that Daryl was back to not paying much attention to at all.

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Carol was on a high like she hadn't been on in a while. Her breath was only beginning to really even out to normal and the hugs and congratulations were being passed around the group as though they'd already won instead of like they were simply getting ready to change when the bathroom lines allowed them the room to do so.

"How long do we have before we know about the next round?" Alice asked from where she was leaning, her bag of clothes over her arm.

"I don't know," Andrea responded. "Everyone's gotta get done…there are five more groups I think? Can anyone make out whose going now? What's the song?"

Andrea had the printed program for the first wave of performances. For judging reasons it was the only one that would be printed. For the second round they would go in numerical order and the same would be true of the third round that would take place the next night.

"Werewolves in London?" Alice asked, leaning as though any slight change in her posture could get her closer to the music.

"No…Sweet Home Alabama," Michonne said, leaning up to look around the crowd toward the bathroom doors. The groups of people who had performed were slowly moving in and out changing and Carol appreciated the lines because it had kept them from seeing really any of their competition at all…and that left them all feeling like they'd done phenomenal because they had no one to compare themselves to.

"Sweet Home Alabaman is on here," Andrea said. "Werewolves in London? No…so it's gotta be Sweet Home. That means there are four more groups…so after that there's a thirty minute intermission for them to tally everything up, then they announce the second round, and then they start with the shows…"

"How many people move on?" Carol asked.

"Ten for the second round, three for the third," Andrea remarked.

"Oh, we're making it into ten," Jacqui said. "We should go ahead and change while we're in there…we're making it into ten…"

"We change and then we're wandering around in the intermission in our costumes," Andrea protested quickly.

"Then what the hell are we changing for at all?" Alice asked. "Fuck that…just wear this until it's time to change into the other costumes…"

Carol shook her head, feeling her cheeks grow warm at the suggestion that they might go out and wander around the bar, have a drink, and mingle while wearing the dresses that she had found almost too scandalous for the performance.

"No! I don't want to walk around in this!" She protested.

"Why not?" Alice asked. "You look hot…and we might be able to work up a few last minute votes…besides...I'm kind of getting used to this…might be a new look for me…"

Sadie was leaning on Alice's arm, watching everything she was saying but most likely lost as the rest of them exchanged comments in the line. She seemed to emphatically agree with Alice because she started nodding her head and saying "yes" over and over to what Alice had said.

"You like what you're wearing?" Carol asked, catching the woman's attention.

Sadie looked at her blankly and shrugged, but then she smiled.

"I like…what Alice is wearing," she said with a smirk.

Carol shook her head.

"No," Andrea said. "She's got a point…let's go…there's no need wasting time in this line. It'll be shorter to change for the second round and…besides…your legs have never looked better. Let's go and see if Merle and Daryl made it."

Carol realized she'd lost the discussion when everyone simultaneously gave up their spots in line and started away from the back area of bathrooms toward the bar area. She tugged down the skirt a little more, then she tugged the dress back up to make sure her breasts were covered, and then she finally sighed and trotted after them because they were leaving her.

She hoped, if Daryl and Merle had shown up and they were able to find them, that Daryl wasn't going to give her too hard of a time for being dressed like something crossed between Malibu Barbie and a hooker.


	37. Chapter 37

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. So we still have another actual "show" chapter left…but we're also getting the "date night" chapter after this one that breaks up the show a little bit. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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After Carol and her friends had gone on for their performance, Daryl had stopped paying attention. It wasn't too long after that that he, Merle, and Axel were joined by Tyreese, their boss, and T, another man that worked sometimes with Tyreese.

And come to find out, the world was a lot smaller than he had even imagined before…because he was right when he suspected that the woman in bright yellow was Tyreese's wife…and apparently the woman dressed in the bright orange…the one that Daryl thought he recognized from Carol's café, was the same woman who had been living with T longer than Tyreese and his wife had been married.

They found extra chairs for the men, a task that would have been easier any other night but was a little bit of stretch this night, and crowded them around the table.

None of them really knew what to expect, but they knew they were parking it there and holding until further notice. Eventually they'd find out if the women were going on again or not…but first there were a couple more groups that had to perform and then they were announcing some kind of break that was going to take place to give them time to make their way to the bar and vote if they hadn't done so already.

The first person that Daryl saw and recognized, though it was difficult to miss any of them since they looked like street walking Skittles making their way through the crowd, was Andrea. Daryl glanced, trying to look around her, until he found Carol bringing up the rear of the pack.

Andrea led them almost directly to the table, getting stopped once or twice by people that were either congratulating them on a job well done, or more than likely, trying to offer a phone number here and there to the women who had made jaws drop with their choices in costumes.

Andrea didn't speak to Daryl or anyone else at the table. She went directly to Merle and then loudly started to pelt them all with questions.

How had it been? How were the other groups? What did they think? Did they have a chance to go on to the second round? But did they really have a chance? Had they gone to vote? How many people had been voting? What had the jars looked like?

Daryl's head was spinning with her stream of questions that he doubted were getting answered by anyone because no one at the table had the mental stamina to keep up with the speed at which the questions were dispensed.

Daryl turned his attention away from Andrea and her overwhelming questions…she turned his attention away from all of them when Carol finally made her way through the crowd and approached.

Except he was looking for something great to say…something that would capture everything he was thinking about how damn good she looked in that dress…something that would say that the performance had been wonderful…even if he really couldn't remember much of what they'd done during the dance….and for all that he was looking to say, he found nothing. Not one single word. It was worse than the one and only time he'd tried to give some kind of speech for Tyreese at a city council meeting and he'd suddenly been struck dumb and apparently unable to even read the note cards that he had.

He couldn't say anything great to Carol because all of a sudden he couldn't say anything. His only defense…it seemed…was to grin at her and hope that somehow it translated over into some kind of wowing conversation.

Carol didn't seem to notice, though, or she didn't seem to hold it against him. She walked over to him and rested her arms on his shoulder.

"You came!" She said with a smile.

And luckily the warmth of the smile that she offered did a little something to loosen up his tongue. He nodded his head.

"You said ya wanted me ta come," he said. "So here I am…"

Carol smiled and he thought she blushed a little…or else she was still hot and flustered from the dance.

"What did you think?" She asked, lowering her voice. "Be honest…"

Daryl hated to admit that honest was about all that he could be right now. He was having a hard enough time speaking with her leaning on him, obviously using him to hold her up while she rested a little, so he knew he couldn't muster up the energy and the brain capacity needed to come up with a convincing lie.

"I don't like ABBA," he admitted. "But'cha did good…I…uh…"

Daryl stopped and cleared his throat.

"I like ya costumes…" he offered.

He was sure of it then that Carol's face changed hues.

"They're terrible!" She said, shaking her head. "They're the showiest ones we have, though…Andrea wanted us to come out with everything…well…she said everything we had to offer to get into the next round."

Daryl leaned a little, accidentally bumping Merle, but he didn't know if his brother even noticed because he was busy smarming Andrea and the lesbians…further proof that Merle did not understand the concept of lesbianism.

Daryl looked Carol up and down in the dress and chewed at his lip.

"Terrible weren't the word I was thinkin'…" he offered.

And Carol's face went a little redder, but she didn't say anything to him about the comment. He hoped, though he wasn't going to say it there at the table with everyone listening, that she was holding onto the dress…and that she might be looking for someone to escort her home tonight, no matter how the second round of this thing went.

Daryl figured he was up for cheering her up if that's what she needed or for celebrating with her if that was more where the night was headed.

He was, after all, flexible.

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"All I'm sayin' is that if Carol's a dyke…Andrea might be too…an' I ain't too damn old ta cross shit off my bucket list," Merle declared, cramming his mouth full of nachos at the end of his statement.

The women had made it into the second round and now Daryl was waiting with the other men to see what their second performance might be. Some of them were paying attention, in the meantime, to what was going on…and Axel was off in the corner with some woman he was trying to get to know better who looked like she was trying to decide if there was anything more interesting to find around the place…but Daryl didn't really care about the competition at all.

The only thing that he was thinking about was the fact that Carol had asked him if he was interested in taking her home. She'd rode over to the place with Andrea, and since Andrea was going with Merle, she'd have to scare up a ride if she didn't want to be stranded at Salty's after tonight's little shindig.

And Daryl didn't have a single problem in the world with driving her home.

"Merle…ya missin' the damn point a' what a dyke is," Daryl said finally. "Means they don't want no damn part a' ya dick comin' no damn where near 'em…they like women…"

"I do too," Merle commented. "Right there…we got a whole lotta shit in common…already lookin' like a damn story book if ya ask me…"

Daryl shook his head.

"Listen…Carol ain't no dyke…Andrea…I don't reckon she's no dyke…an' the dykes? They don't want'cha ass naked 'round 'em…don't wanna fuck ya…you get it?" Daryl insisted.

Tyreese laughed and shook his head.

"I don't know Sadie well," Tyreese offered, "but I've known Alice for a long time. She's a bonafide lesbian, Merle. No men…none at all."

Merle chuckled.

"Sounds like a good damn challenge…" he growled.

Daryl shook his head and took a swallow of the beer that he'd been nursing so long it tasted like warm piss. He could tell that at this point Merle was more than likely just looking to keep the conversation going…and he wasn't going to humor him.

Salty's was starting to clear out a little bit. It was still far more packed than it would normally be on a Friday night, but it had thinned a good deal when they'd announced who had made it to the second round of dancing. Apparently those that didn't make it didn't think they ought to stay to support the others.

Daryl watched the people for a little while and only turned his head when he heard Merle let out one of the shrill whistles that he was an expert at producing and then he heard Andrea's voice come over the speakers.

"Hi everyone!" Andrea announced.

She was dressed much differently this time than before, though Daryl couldn't say that the costumes were terrible…judging from hers they were just different. She was still wearing a tight, short skirt…it was just black instead of colored like she was part of a puddle of unicorn vomit. She was wearing a white button down shirt that looked like a man's dress shirt…but it obviously wasn't one she'd stolen from Merle because the damn thing looked clean.

"I'm Andrea Harrison and on behalf of my group I'd like to thank everyone who voted for us. We're number seventeen, that's one, seven, and we hope that you'll vote for us in this round so we get to see y'all tomorrow night too. We're um…"

Daryl felt sorry for her when she stopped and looked a little blank, the broad smile she was wearing fading from her lips. She'd obviously forgotten the rest of what she had to say.

A moment later, though, she smiled again and nodded her head.

"Sorry…we're doing "Does You Mother Know?" and that's ABBA…and we're group seventeen, so vote for us when we're done!"

She laughed at herself and it echoed as she put the microphone down and disappeared through the shower curtain that was hanging on by a thread on one end of the little stage…they'd have to do some repairs before the next night if they didn't want the whole thing crashing down to the floor.

When they moved the little curtain out of the way and then the music started, Daryl was sorely disappointed in the outfits that they were wearing…which admittedly was the real reason he'd been somewhat tapping his foot and waiting for the thing to start.

It took him a minute to even find Carol, even though she was front and center, because he hadn't really expected her to be dressed like she was.

She was dressed like a man. She and one of the dykes that Merle had been talking up…the brunette that had stolen his redhead right out from under his nose, were both dressed in black pants instead of the short black skirts that everyone else wore, and both wore black ties hung loose around their necks to go over the white dress shirts.

He hadn't felt more disappointed since he was a kid and realized that no matter what the hell everyone at school talked about, he wasn't getting shit for Christmas.

Merle chuckled.

"You gonna tell me know she ain't no dyke?" Merle growled in Daryl's ear, leaning over so that Daryl crinkled his nose at his brother's sour breath.

"Shut up, Merle," Daryl muttered. "She ain't no dyke…reckon…hell…s' parta the dance. They just dressin' like that for they story…"

Merle chuckled.

"It's alright, lil' brother," Merle teased. "You mighta got you a dyke…but she still looks pretty damn hot…an' you one step closer ta crossin' shit off ya bucket list…"

Daryl looked at Merle, finding it easier to look away from his disappointment than it had been to look away from the purple dress of before and rolled his eyes.

"She ain't no damn dyke an' I ain't got shit on my bucket list 'bout tryin' ta do somethin' I prob'ly couldn't do any damn way. You tried ta fuck three women…hell…you tried ta fuck two…an' I bet'cha that'cha ass'd die of a damn heart attack…bigger'n shit," Daryl spat at his brother.

He didn't realize his voice had carried until he heard Tyreese snort and then break into laughter.

"You couldn't pay me to give it a go with any two of those women at one time…Sadie's kind of quiet…but if she's tangled up with Alice? I don't want to try win that fight. Besides…I kind of like this dance…" Tyreese commented.

"You just like it because they rubbin' up on each other like that," Axel said.

"You're superior enough over there you don't like it?" T asked.

Axel laughed.

"Didn't say that shit…I was just pointin' out why it's so appealin' to the senses…Daryl…you the one goin' to the jar next," Axel commented.

When everyone started to pile their money in the center of the table as the song was ending, Daryl looked at Axel.

"Why you worried 'bout 'em winnin'? You ain't gettin' shit outta this," Daryl commented.

"I want 'em to win because I wanna see what they're going to do tomorrow night," Axel said with a laugh. "Got a better way to kill a Saturday?"

Daryl shook his head and gathered up the bills on the table. He didn't know how long they had to hang around the place waiting on the results from the second round, especially considering that they weren't the last group to go, but at least he knew that it wouldn't be that much longer that he could get the hell out of Salty's and start trying to talk Carol into slipping into something a little more…appealing.


	38. Chapter 38

**AN: There is a long and heated response to a guest reviewer at the end. I invite anyone who does not need to read it (and doesn't need to "suggest" direction for people's writing) to ignore it. Most of the time I delete such things or simply ignore them…but today hasn't been a great day and I didn't feel like ignoring it today.**

**The short of it is that this is not a story about just Daryl and Carol and their sexual endeavors together. It has NEVER been presented as that. If you weren't sure, however, I'm letting it be known as clearly as possible now. It's about them, yes, but it was also intended to be about other characters and about their relationships. It's not just a "we're tangled up in each other and nothing and no one else exists" fic. If that's not your cup of tea, I invite you to stop reading now. **

**Otherwise, here's another chapter and I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think.**

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"OK…so you got…" Daryl started, digging through the bags of fast food that he was emptying onto Carol's table.

By the time that they'd left Salty's, she'd been tired and he'd been tired too so they'd opted for the healthiest meal option available to them…a drive thru dinner.

"Chicken sandwich," Carol said, ruffling the papers to look at the sandwiches nestled inside them. Satisfied that she had hers, she opened it and started to eat without any real fanfare. Daryl snickered to himself and sat down, pulling the first of the two burgers he had planned for himself toward him.

She hadn't changed out of the dress clothes for the second performance that they'd done, and Daryl wasn't sure exactly how he was going to introduce his question about whether or not he could talk her out of them. She had loosened the tie so that it hung even more open than before, but that was about all the change that had taken place.

Daryl chewed through a few bites of his burger, making faster progress with his food than she was, and then he swallowed down the food and started to talk to her.

"So…uh…tomorrow night? That's the last night?" He asked.

Carol looked at him and nodded as she chewed.

"You uh…ya got nice costumes for that one too?" He asked.

Carol smiled.

"They're bright," Carol said. "They're…all these…I don't know what you'd call them. Pants suits? I guess? They're really…"

She broke off and laughed to herself and Daryl couldn't help but be amused.

"What?" He probed.

"They're super tacky," Carol admitted. "But…I guess it's just for the one night and it was Jacqui's idea…throwback to the seventies."

Daryl chuckled.

"Good times," he commented.

He finished his first sandwich, felt a little sheepish that he was gobbling his food while she appeared to be someone who was much more delicate…actually making a fry last for more than one bite…and then he pulled his other sandwich toward him.

"So…pants? Again?" He asked.

Carol nodded and held her gaze on him a moment. The way that she was looking at him at the moment made him a little uncomfortable because he could tell that it wasn't an entirely innocent look. It wasn't devoid of meaning. Her eyes were slanted like she was trying to see through him or something…and he cleared his throat in response and offered her a half smile through his eating to try to get her to look away or change the expression she might not know she was making.

"You're really into fashion, aren't you?" Carol asked, her voice taking on something of an ironic tone.

And Daryl felt his face grow warm. He'd been figured out as sure as he was sitting there. He laughed, almost choking on his food and shook his head.

"Not really…just…ya know…liked ya costume, that's all," Daryl said.

"This one?" Carol asked, looking at the outfit she was wearing.

Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. But he wasn't going to insult her. So he nodded his head with very little commitment to the act and then fell silent.

He finished eating before she did, but he sat there and picked at fries while she finished in silence, not wanting to make her feel bothered that she was still eating when he'd already swallowed down twice as much food.

When she finished, though, she got up and cleared the trash off the table, leaving him with the fries in front of him that he didn't really want, and then she went about walking around the kitchen and piddling with things here and there as though he wasn't even in the room.

Finally he cleared his throat rather noisily to remind her that he was there…just in case she'd forgotten.

She crossed the room and leaned, her hand on the table near him.

"Were you planning on staying the night tonight?" She asked.

"You invitin' me?" Daryl asked.

Carol smiled.

"I don't want to interrupt your…other plans…" she offered.

Daryl snickered.

"I think ya might think I got more goin' on in life than I do," he commented.

Carol smiled again and nodded her head.

"Did you have anything in mind…anything you wanted to do?" She asked.

Daryl cleared his throat again. It was now or never if he was getting his way with this whole thing. She couldn't leave the door more open for him if she'd simply asked him how he wanted to have sex with her.

"Like ta get another look at that purple dress you was wearin'…it…well…" He broke off and laughed at himself in conjunction with the look she was giving him, eyebrows raised, nodding her head slightly as he spoke. "It looked good on ya…"

Carol nodded her head.

"It did?" She asked. "You don't like this one?"

Daryl swallowed.

He felt like she was playing with him…in fact, he was more positive that she was playing with him than he'd been about most things in his life.

The part that he wasn't sure of was what the stakes of this game were.

"Like that one too," he said. "Just…like the purple one…better…"

Carol nodded her head like he'd just told her some kind of deep information that she was going to have to think over for a moment. Then she narrowed her eyes at him again and set her jaw, her tongue very obviously exploring her back teeth while she considered it.

"Are you asking me…to put on the purple dress?" Carol asked.

Daryl smirked, amused at the game now that he felt sure it was a game…and not one he was likely to lose.

"Yeah…reckon I am…" he said.

Carol made something of a disappointed face and straightened herself up from where she was leaning against the table. She started to unbutton the white dress shirt that she was wearing, stopping in Daryl's opinion just when she was getting to the good part so that her bra was visible, but just barely.

She sighed.

"Well…I can change, I guess…it's just a shame…" she said.

Daryl furrowed his brow at her.

"S'a shame?" He asked.

She nodded, the look of disappointment not entirely gone from her face. She pulled the tie over her head and Daryl was momentarily confused when she slipped it over his head, hanging it loosely like a red necklace. She stood there a moment, fumbling with it and sliding the knot so that it was a little tighter around his neck, but not choking him.

"Yeah," she said, smiling at the tie more than at him. "It's a shame…because…I didn't think I was going to like this one until I put it on…and now I think it's kind of…sexy. At least it makes me feel sexy…"

Daryl cleared his throat again, not sure if the sudden choking up that was coming over him was coming from his normal dislike of ties or because he was oddly turned on right now and he couldn't even explain exactly why it was…except that maybe it was Carol's cleavage close to his face…or maybe it was her tone of voice…but something had him finding it a little more difficult to swallow than he thought an the action had to be.

"That makes you feel sexy?" He asked.

Carol smiled broadly then…more broadly than before and she backed off of him, stepping back a few steps.

"Yeah…kind of…different…maybe…" she shrugged. "I don't know…maybe powerful. It makes me want to do things…"

He couldn't even pretend that his interest wasn't peaked. At the moment he was pretty sure that she'd look sexy wearing a black plastic trash bag of the variety that Merle usually got in boxes of nearly a hundred from the A and P.

"What kinda things were ya thinkin' 'bout?" Daryl asked.

She pursed her lips at him.

"You like the purple one," she said.

Daryl nodded his head.

"They's always tomorrow night," he said. "Thing about me is…I'm pretty damn flexible…"

She smiled.

"A real go with the flow kinda guy?" She asked.

"If that's what'cha need me ta be," he said.

Carol smiled again.

"I don't want to mess up your evening…" she offered. "If you had plans…"

Daryl got up then. He could barely concentrate for being turned on and he wasn't sure how much more of the game that he could stand playing before there was some kind of touch involved between them besides the light resting of her hand on his chest when she'd slipped the tie over his neck. He stepped toward her, half expecting her to skirt his advance just to tease him, and caught her, pulling her close to him.

She kissed him hard…harder than she had before and bit his lip hard enough when she pulled away that it stung afterward and he thought to himself that he wouldn't be surprised if it was bleeding…but he wasn't going to complain if it was because it just made him suddenly appreciate her…and whatever it was in the outfit she was wearing that made her feel this way…even more than he had before.

He moved his hands to her pants and tried to figure out how the hell the things were fastened. It wasn't just a typical button and zipper get up and he wished, for a moment, that women's clothes didn't have to be so damn complicated.

"I think you need ta come outta these," he said finally, leaning his face close to her ear and then biting and sucking her neck…hoping she wouldn't be pissed if he left there the purple bruises that he was considering putting anywhere on her body that she gave him the opportunity to.

She backed up, pulling away from him.

"No…" she said, shaking her head at him. "I think you need to come out of those…"

Daryl smirked.

But that was fine…he would give. He had an itchy feeling that she'd make it worth his while anyway and at this moment he didn't have any real affinity for his pants…nor did he intend to keep them.

"Bedroom?" He asked, reaching and popping the button on his pants, wondering exactly how dramatic she wanted this little removal to be.

Carol shook her head.

"Dining room?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

He wasn't exactly that well-versed in places to have sex. Bedroom was most common to him…couch…and a few times in cars which never turned out to be like he wanted it to be.

Carol looked like she was considering it.

"I would," she said with some hesitancy, "but I think there's a brace loose on the table…"

Daryl closed his eyes and shook his head, taken over by her sincerity at the moment.

"I can fix that…later…" he said. "So where?"

Carol shrugged.

"Living room…" she said, and she turned, leaving him there, pants unbuttoned, to lead the way to where she apparently saw this happening. When Daryl followed after her, shucking his pants without any pomp and circumstance because he thought, at this point, she didn't care, and toeing out of his shoes as quickly was as humanly possible, she stood and waited on him, ogling him.

"There…" she said, pointing to one of the cushioned chairs. He nodded and went toward it.

"Underwear?" She asked.

Daryl smirked.

"You ain't lost nothin' yet…an' you want my pants an' my drawers?" He teased…but he came out of the underwear, and to meet her challenge in the game, deliberately stroked himself slowly twice while he stared at her…and before he took the seat that she had designated for him. "Socks too?" He asked.

She made a face and nodded her head.

"I think socks too…" she said. "And the shirt…but leave the tie…"

Daryl snickered, but he complied with her wishes until he was left feeling more than a little exposed, wearing nothing more than a tie and his amusement.

"You said that shit makes ya feel sexy…I think it makes ya feel bossy," he muttered.

But even as he was speaking, Carol shimmied out of her pants…and if she'd been wearing underwear with them, Daryl wasn't sure because she'd taken the panties off in the same move if they'd ever been there to begin with.

And he felt himself grow harder.

"Damn…" was all he managed to get out.

She smiled and came toward him, her hands going to the back of the chair as she leaned down. He moved to kiss her, thinking that's what she was dipping down to do as she brushed against him, but she surprised him by skirting the kiss and dropping her head to lick and suck at his nipple, adding her teeth in later, until he squirmed uncontrollably in the chair out of the pure necessity to move.

She pulled up then and looked at him with what he was now sure was the look that she wore for torture.

"Shirt?" He asked, embarrassed at the sound of his own voice.

She backed off of him a little and shook her head.

"I like it…" she said.

She reached around and unclasped her bra, pulling one arm out and then the other, and threading them back into the sleeves of the shirt before she let the garment fall to the floor.

"I think I'll keep it…" she said.

She didn't ask him if he was fine with that or not…but he didn't care now that the shirt hung open and she was void of everything else. When she came back, this time kissing him with all the force that she'd used before, he reached a hand and found her breast, pinching her nipple hard to match the force of the kiss. She moaned at him and stayed that way, attacking his nipples the same as he was doing to hers while they kissed and nipped at each other's lips, for a moment and then she backed up and turned around.

He didn't need instructions to help her arrange herself as she lowered herself down onto him, her back against his chest. He moved the shirt enough that it hung loosely off her shoulders, her hands gripping the arm of the chair for leverage as she directed the speed and depth of his thrusts and he latched his teeth onto the soft skin just where her neck and shoulder met, gently biting her there while his hands looked for something to do, one harassing a breast, while the other found the place just where they met and teased her into harder, faster movements on her part.

When she came, she dug her nails into his thighs, where her hands had sought a hold, and the biting sting of her nails coupled with her pulsing around him drove him to find his own end and to bite hard than he'd intended on the place that he'd suckled at her neck.

Void of breath and still wrapped up in the temporary euphoria of the moment, he dropped one of his arms around her waist, pulling her to lean back against him as they both tried to find breath before they worried about words.

He could honestly say…at that moment…that the outfit he'd thought he didn't care for at all was now sitting somewhere at the top of his list for costume choices, were she looking for his advice on the issue in the future.

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**AN: To the guest reviewer…I considered whether or not to address your comments. And really, if I felt like being the "big person" here, I wouldn't address them…but maybe today just simply wasn't that day. So I'm going to address them.**

**I invite you…in fact, I almost implore you…to stop reading now or at any point that you see fit to stop. Really…it's OK. If you don't like a story then you shouldn't keep reading it. It's a waste of your time and energy and if it causes you any undue stress then it's probably bad for your health and I don't want to contribute to that in the least.**

**That aside…I will now address the rest of your comment. **

**Does this "storyline pothole" have a point? No more than any other "storyline pothole" has ever had. If you don't like it…stop reading. It's simple. Will it "get out of the pothole?" Well…that's up for interpretation. I don't think it's in a pothole, so there's nothing to get out of. Plots have lots of different "parts" to them…or at least I think they should…so this is simply one of them. That's it. That's all there is to it. It would be awfully boring to see the same thing over and over again or have the entirety of the story summed up instantly. The only time that works, in my opinion, is if you're either reading one shots (in which case that's the whole point) or smut shots (in which case we know what the point is). Whether or not the story will crawl out of its pothole, I can't answer for you…but I invite you to get out if you can. I wouldn't want you to be stuck in a pothole. **

**As for why "we" read the story originally, I would invite you to speak for yourself since I'm sure you don't speak for the entirety of the story's readers. Some people read the things I write for no other reason than to simply support me…that's it…I'm sure that you don't fall into that category. So when you address "why we read" the story, perhaps you should think about speaking for yourself. What you seek in a story is very individualized. I don't read anything the same as anyone else, and neither do you. **

"**Friends fall by the wayside" and you want more about Daryl and Carol…well let me just go ahead and nip this in the bud right now. That's not always true. That's owing to a certain kind of psychology, one that I don't subscribe to. **

**This story was NEVER intended to be solely about Daryl and Carol. That should have been evident from the get go to anyone not reading with shipping blinders. Other relationships mean a good deal in the story and have shaped who Daryl and Carol are and how they interact with each other as well as the "outside world". I'm not writing a story about just their relationship. I never intended to, I never pretended that's what this was going to be. If that's what you thought it was going to be, then you simply jumped to your own conclusions. Please don't assume that you know anything about where this story was intended to go or about any "detours" or "potholes" I've had along the way. **

**Contrary to popular belief, tacking "please" on the end of anything doesn't make it any more pleasant and doesn't excuse the rest of your way comment and/or attitude. Nor does tacking on any false flattery. It also doesn't exactly make me want to do anything that you suggest that I should do…in fact, it makes me almost want to do the opposite entirely. **

**Again, I invite you, since this story is obviously not going to fulfill any of your entertainment needs, to find something that does.**


	39. Chapter 39

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter and the last of the "performance chapters". We're moving on.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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Daryl picked at the nachos that Merle was eating, feeling now like they were simply killing time. The women had gone on…and Carol might not have been right with her use of "tacky" for their costumes, but they were pretty bad in Daryl's opinion…and they'd done their little dance to "Take A Chance"…and Daryl was fairly certain, like the other men gathered at the table, that they'd probably lost.

"Whatever," T-Dog said after a moment, picking back up with the conversation they'd had about the dance. "It was important to them to do the song…they did the song…and it was good. It was…I don't know…cute or whatever."

Daryl chuckled at T-Dog's change of tone when he said cute.

The dance hadn't been so bad, really…not in the grand scheme of things, but the other two groups that had gone before them had been a little better. And the truth was that it boiled down to the fact that the other two groups clearly had people who knew about dancing…they were more skilled dancers…and that was what had done them in.

"Cute's what's made 'em lose to," Axel grumbled.

For whatever reason he'd really gotten into this thing and he seemed to almost be taking it personally that he suspected they were going to win the whole thing…no matter the fact that they'd all contributed to the "vote" jar.

"Them other two groups," Axel said, pointing his finger around the neck of his beer bottle at Daryl because Daryl was the only one even pretending to pay the man any attention at the moment, "they was serious…they come prepared. The women…they went with their dances in the wrong order…coulda brought some stronger defense or somethin' to this round."

Merle laughed, nearly choking on the chips he was eating and quickly washed the whole mess down with his drink, raising his hand in the much less crowded bar to signal that he was going to need a refill.

"Calm down, Axel," Merle said. "Ain't like none a' this shit means a damn thing. Hell…they got this fuckin' far that's about enough ta be impressed with. This ain't like some damn football game."

Axel made a face at Merle that silently ridiculed him for not taking the dance as importantly as he apparently did, now that he'd sat through all of the performances.

"A little damn strategy comes in handy for everything," Axel retorted.

Merle grunted and turned his attention back to his chips while he looked around and took in the people that were there…the people that had chosen, like them, to spend their evening holding down tables at Salty's.

"Ho-ly…" Merle growled after a moment. "Don't look, lil' brother…"

That, of course, was exactly like telling someone that they had to look, so Daryl scanned around the bar, not knowing really what he was looking for…or rather, what he wasn't supposed to be looking for at all.

"The hell is it?" Daryl asked.

"You got fuckin' cloth for ears?" Merle spat. "I said don't fuckin' look…"

Daryl shook his head at Merle and looked around again. It could be any number of things that Merle didn't want him to see these days. In particular, though, he expected to see a man by the name of Clive Olson…because that son of a bitch owed him some money and he was pissed because he'd turned the other cheek a couple of times on back debts that Clive owed him, on account of he'd known the asshole for the better part of the last twenty years, and he'd recently lent him some money to cover some so called repairs he had to have done and had yet to see one red hot cent in return…and surprisingly enough…old Clive wasn't answering his phone now that Daryl was trying to figure out where the hell his money was.

But as soon as he saw her, he knew that Merle's concern wasn't about Clive and being shit out of several hundred bucks.

And if he'd had any hope at all about being discreet, it was all lost, because everyone at the table turned simultaneously to look in the direction where he'd frozen for half a moment.

"What? What are we looking at?" Tyreese asked.

"Janice," Axel offered. "The woman over there…yellow shirt…used ta be Daryl's girl."

"Put in a lotta damn time on that one," Merle commented.

Daryl shook his head.

"Fuck her," he muttered.

Merle chuckled.

And Daryl meant not to look again, but he couldn't help it. Something was different about her…probably that she changed her hair or something. Probably it was something that she would say that he never noticed or he never paid attention to.

Wasn't that one of the reasons she gave him when she dumped his ass? Wasn't that one of the things she tacked onto the already sore spot she created by running her ass around on him when he was trying to be every damn thing that she wanted him to be?

Daryl felt his blood boil up again just seeing her there in the same room. He hadn't seen her since they'd split…or rather since one day after they'd split when he'd gone down to her house and tried to find out if there was anything that he could do.

He'd fought with himself since it all happened over whether he ever really loved her…or even if he really knew what the hell that meant beyond something he'd constructed for himself that love was supposed to look like…or if he'd really been pissed about the whole thing because she was starting to look like one of the last possibilities he had for ever achieving this vision that he'd always had for himself of what love was supposed to look and how the hell his life was supposed to go.

And the truth was that he'd never fully resolved that question for himself, but what he did know was that just seeing the woman breathing and shit was pissing him off far more than it really should.

"What happened?" Tyreese asked, continuing to look toward where Janice was sitting with another woman, a friend of hers Daryl knew, and the husband of the other woman.

"She's just a bitch," Daryl commented.

Merle chuckled.

"Dropped his ass…what the fuck ever happens? Somebody drops some damn body an' this damn time was Daryl done got the goods," Merle said.

"Shut the fuck up, Merle," Daryl growled, shaking his head at his brother.

Merle chuckled again.

He thought the whole thing was hilarious in its own way. He'd let Daryl bitch and moan about it the night after it happened, but then he'd decided that Daryl's mourning or whatever should be done and he should be over it.

After all, most of the time Merle changed women like he changed underwear…maybe he changed the women with more frequency…and he didn't really see why it was that it pissed Daryl off that Janice had split with him over whatever the fuck the guy's name had been.

And the bitch of it all was that Daryl couldn't explain to Merle why it was that it pissed him off.

"Looks like she's alone," Axel offered. "You know…she weren't that bad…"

"I think you missin' the damn point," Daryl said. "Go back ta thinkin' 'bout dancin' shit…she split with me…and I hope her ass is alone."

Daryl got suddenly fidgety then. He wanted the women to come from wherever they were…running their mouths no doubt or trying to smooze up some judges somewhere…and he wanted to get the hell out of there. He wasn't interested in staying now for anything.

He was heated, and the only way to get over that was going to be to get out of Salty's.

Daryl got out of his chair just as the person came out on the rickety little stage that was on its last leg. He paused, watching the stage, and listened as they read off the names of the night's contests. It was then that he realized why they hadn't seen the women.

Apparently they were making all the groups come back out for the announcement.

In the three groups that were up there, it wasn't any effort at all finding Carol, huddled up with the other women that she'd performed with. They listened as they announced them as third place and Daryl watched as all three of the women smiled and took their bow as though third place in a three person contest wasn't a blow to the stomach.

Then they announced the other two groups in the order that they came in.

And Daryl shifted his weight back and forth, standing tight against the table. He glanced back over in the direction of the table where Janice was sitting and shook his head to himself again. She saw him, there was no doubt about it. Salty's wasn't crowded tonight and if he had such a clear view of her that meant that she had a pretty clear view of him.

And then he decided to do something that was pretty unusual for him, but it was something that he wanted to do nonetheless.

He moved back into his chair, ignoring the fact that he was getting looks from Merle, and waited, tapping his fingers on the edge of the table for the women to come out, their group making a damn good bit of noise, and to draw much of the attention from the surrounding tables.

To draw even more attention, because suddenly that's what Daryl wanted, he brought his fingers to his mouth and let out a shrill whistle, much like the ones that Merle could produce, though Merle was louder, and spurred on the other men to make a fuss over the approaching women.

And they wall went along with it because they didn't have a damn thing to lose anyway.

The women thought it was grand and as they walked toward the table each of them did something of a little bow and there were broad smiles all around.

When they got closer to the table, Daryl reached out and caught Carol's hand. She did something of a shy act, almost pulling away from him, but he pulled her closer to him and moved to kiss her, hoping…for once…that people were looking.

Carol shied away from him, probably surprised by the move, and turned her cheek to him. He kissed her cheek, but surprised her by moving his head quickly and catching her ear lobe between his teeth. He nipped it and then pulled off of her and she looked at him, blushing red.

"Did you like the dance that much?" She asked, keeping her voice low.

He smiled at her, laughing. He shook his head.

"It was alright," he responded. "But I liked you that much…"

Carol looked a little taken aback, probably from not expecting such a statement from him, but she smiled again quickly and then when he pulled her in for a kiss she came willingly, kissing him quickly.

"Let's get outta here," he said when he pulled away.

"Right now?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He nodded.

"Yeah," he responded. "Now…"

She almost looked nervous as she glanced around the table at everyone else who seemed to be involved in one of various conversations that were taking place. Daryl caught that they were getting the occasional glance from their own table…and he briefly wondered about the attention they were drawing from anyone else in the bar…and then he turned back to Carol.

"What?" He asked. "You wanna hang around here an' have losin' drinks?"

Carol shrugged and her words came out a little stunted.

"Well…I mean no, not really," she said. "What'd you…want to do?"

Daryl smiled at her.

"I got me a pretty good idea we'll figure it out," he said.

Carol's cheeks blushed a little pinker than they had been, but she offered him a smile and then it was her who dipped toward him, expecting a kiss that he gladly gave her at the moment…surprised that he wasn't as embarrassed by public affection as he'd always thought that he would be. His fear of being embarrassed by knowing that people were looking at him, or that they might be, had kept him from ever really doing too much to publicly show his affection for anyone…but all of a sudden he was finding it far more invigorating than embarrassing.

"We goin'?" He asked, when she broke apart from him.

Her smile from moments before returned, but broader this time. She nodded her head enthusiastically.

"Let's go," she said.

And Daryl smiled to himself before tapping Merle on the shoulder to get his brother's attention, and consequently the attention of everyone at the table, so that they could say their goodbyes and get out of the bar.

It was still pretty early, and Daryl was in the mood to be any place except where they were.


	40. Chapter 40

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think! **

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Carol was a little perplexed by Daryl. They barely got out enough of a goodbye and "see you later" to everyone that was gathered around, rehashing the performances of the night, before Carol grabbed up the bag that she had with clothes she'd never changed back into and was practically drug out of Salty's by Daryl.

Something had come over him, that much was evident, and she wasn't entirely sure it was related to his excitement over their final performance…one that had evidently not impressed too many people but was fun for them…and not to something else.

When they reached his truck, Daryl got the truck unlocked and held the door open, almost pushing Carol inside. She tried once or twice to ask him what was going on…what had come over him…but she was almost too wrapped up in her confusion to manage the words.

So she sat quietly as he got into the truck and started to drive them, so she supposed to her house. He surprised her, though, cutting off down a back road that she wasn't too familiar with.

"Where are we going?" She asked finally, watching as the scenery around her started to give way to the farm houses and rolling fields of the outskirts.

Daryl didn't respond, though. He simply wore something of a snicker on his face and drove along until they'd reached what was apparently their destination and he pulled off and put the truck in park, killing the engine.

Except if this was their destination, Carol didn't know what he had in mind except maybe hiding a body that she didn't know about.

"What are we doing?" Carol asked.

Daryl slid over in the bucket seat of the truck and she turned her head so he kissed her right by the ear. She hadn't really meant to dodge him, but she wasn't expecting this any more than she'd been expecting his sudden show of interest at the bar or their rushed exit from the place.

"What's it look like we're doing?" Daryl responded.

He pushed at her, backing her against the passenger side door of the truck and she thought for a brief moment that she hoped the door was locked or that it wasn't some kind of tricky door that might come open. She wasn't trying to go spilling it out…and it was becoming somewhat evident to her what they were doing, but she still wanted some sort of explanation before she even considered engaging in antics like trying to do this, here.

"Daryl…stop a minute," Carol said, pushing at him.

He was wound up and she might have expected that he had been drinking or that his somewhat strange behavior could be explained by something like that, except he barely smelled at all of beer and nothing else in his demeanor, other than the fact he was simply behaving oddly and obviously a little hyped up about something, gave any indication that he'd been drinking.

He tugged at the jumpsuit she was wearing, one piece of clothing she would be perfectly happy never to wear again, and she spat at him to stop because if the thing wasn't removed in a particular way it wouldn't come off…and his tugging was doing nothing more than hurting her arm and shoulder.

"STOP!" She yelled finally, shoving at him with her hands and the one knee that she could get into a position to use against him.

He backed off of her like he'd been shot and she was pretty sure it was especially owing to the fact that she'd either kneed him in the stomach or the groin…though she wasn't sure which from their cramped quarters.

And for a moment they sat in the dark cab of the truck, both of them with their breath elevated for different reasons, staring at one another.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Carol asked suddenly when she felt she could speak again.

"What are you talkin' about?" Daryl asked. "Was you who kneed me in the damn gut!"

Carol took a breath, realizing that they were both going to continue to yell if this wasn't something that they consciously decided to change.

"Daryl…what got into you back at the bar? What's gotten into you now?" Carol asked. "I kneed you because you were hurting me."

"Nothin'…an' I thought you might like the idea a' parkin'…but I can see I was wrong," Daryl responded, moving around to sit straight in his seat instead of in the odd position he'd taken after his sudden retreat.

Carol took the opportunity to get herself into a more dignified position as well and to readjust her clothes so that they were more comfortable.

"I know that something got into you," Carol said. "I think…I know you well enough to know that you weren't acting like yourself. Did something happen? Something I don't know about?"

At first Daryl sat there, silent and brooding and probably pissed about her knee, like he wasn't going to answer.

"I'm sorry I kneed you," Carol offered. "I only did it…because I thought you…well because you weren't listening to me and you were hurting me."

Daryl continued to brood for a moment or whatever it was he was doing in the now clearly defined "half" of the truck that was his safe zone, his corner of the ring.

Finally, though, he sighed and Carol couldn't hear the heavy breathing that had marked his presence earlier, so she thought he might be calming down or coming down or whatever it was that he needed to do.

"I didn't mean ta hurt ya, OK?" He asked.

Carol almost laughed to herself.

She would say that was a pathetic apology, if that's what it was intended to be, but she got the distinct feeling that at the moment it was the best that she was going to get as far as apologies went so she decided to simply accept it and keep her focus on finding out what was going on and hopefully salvaging the rest of the evening.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Carol asked.

Daryl sucked his teeth and stuck his key into the ignition, cranking the truck. Carol wasn't against the idea of parking, but apparently their battle had made Daryl think better of it. He turned the truck around and headed back down the roads that he knew well but she didn't know at all.

"I was in the bar an' I saw Janice," Daryl said.

Carol fastened her seatbelt, realizing that it had never been fastened before, and listened in silence, waiting to see how much of the story Daryl was willing to tell…or even how much there was to be told.

"It just pissed me off…ya know? Seein' her there…pissed me off…an' I guess…" He broke off from what he was saying and Carol ran her fingers through her hair, waiting on him to continue.

By the time they reached roads that she was more familiar with, though, and she could track their progress in the direction of her house, it was evident that he wasn't going to continue.

"So it pissed you off and you decided to…what, Daryl? Kiss me in the bar? Were you trying to make a scene?" Carol asked.

"Weren't tryin' ta make no scene," Daryl said.

"So what were you trying to do? Were you trying to make her jealous?" Carol asked.

Daryl cleared his throat but he didn't say anything that was affirmative nor negative.

"So you were trying to make Janice jealous by kissing me in the bar…by us leaving together…in the rush that we had to leave in?" Carol asked.

She didn't really know if she expected an answer from him, but if she had, she would have been disappointed.

"Daryl…I like you, I really do, but if you're not over Janice then I understand that…but that means that you need to resolve whatever it is that you've got to resolve with her. I don't want to be…just someone you use to make her jealous," Carol said.

Daryl looked at her a moment and then directed his attention back to the road, bringing his thumb up to chew at it a moment.

"She cheated on you," Carol continued, "and I understand that…I do! I've been cheated on and it hurts…but after a while I started to think that maybe it was better that they cheated on me…maybe it was better that I was without them. You know? Dodged that bullet, as Alice says. But I've also been used…and I've been…treated badly by men that I've been with and I don't want that."

"That weren't what I meant," Daryl said shortly.

"I don't know if that's what you meant or not," Carol said. "But I'm telling you that it's not what I want…and it's not something I'm going to put up with. If you're not done with Janice, then by all means…go to her…deal with what you've got to deal with…but I don't want to be someone you use to…get back at her, or whatever it is that you're doing."

Daryl chuckled somewhat ironically and Carol waited for him to enlighten her as to what the joke was.

She could tell that whatever mood he'd been in before was gone, but now she was relatively certain that it had been replaced by a sour mood. She wasn't sure if it was because of Janice, if it was because she was saying the things she was saying right now and they weren't something he wanted to hear, or if it was because she was the grown up version of a bitch date and had turned him down for parking…but it was pretty evident that he wasn't in the best mood he'd ever been in.

"You're somethin' else, you know that?" Daryl said.

Carol didn't respond. This wasn't the "you're something else" that said you're a good thing…you're a wonderful and amazing person. This wasn't that at all.

"She don't know what we doin' right now," Daryl said. "Ain't like this is gettin' back at her at all. An' she cheated on me…cheated on me with a guy that's damn near twenty years younger'n me."

"So what…is this about your ego?" Carol asked. "Is this about the fact that she cheated on you or about the fact that she cheated on you with someone younger than you?"

She waited but got no response.

"That's not nice either," Carol said. "It doesn't feel good…but what are you going to do about it?"

Daryl didn't say anything.

"I'm older than you are," Carol offered. "I'm sure of that…does it bother you?"

"Not anymore it don't," Daryl said quickly.

Carol nodded to herself.

She didn't feel like they were going to get anywhere because of his mood. Maybe this was something they could discuss, but they'd need to talk about it more when both of them were calm. She suspected that they might not get anywhere they wanted to be until he'd come down from whatever mood it was that he was in and thought about things with a level head.

"Daryl," Carol said, "I don't want to fight with you."

He laughed ironically again.

"Ya don't? 'Cause it sounds ta me that's right where you headed…full steam ahead," Daryl said.

Carol nodded her head to herself again.

"No…I don't want to fight with you," Carol said. "I can see that you're in a mood right now. So the only thing I want to know is…do you feel like…like you've still got things that you need to work out with Janice? Do you want to work things out with her?"

Daryl didn't respond and Carol was trying to decide if that's what she should take as her answer when he pulled into her neighborhood. He pulled into her driveway and put the truck in park, shutting off the engine, but Carol didn't make a move at the moment to get out. She figured it might be best to sit for a moment and figure out what was happening…because she knew well enough to know that how they handled this moment might very well determine what came next, if anything at all came next.

Daryl sat silently chewing over whatever he was thinking for another moment before he spoke.

"I don't wanna get back with Janice," Daryl said. "I'm just…still pissed off, I guess…"

He at least sounded calmer now than he had before and that was a step in some direction.

"So you don't want to work things out with her?" Carol asked.

Daryl shook his head.

"Daryl…do you want to be with me?" Carol asked. "Because…if you don't really want to be with me…I don't want you to feel like you have to be. Really…"

Carol laughed somewhat ironically to herself.

"Daryl, I'll be fine if you don't want to be with me," Carol said. "You're not obligated to do anything you don't want to do."

He looked at her.

"I like you…an' I like bein' with you," he said. "An' you wanna know the truth? I started…I almost did wanna make a show in the bar…just so she'd see it. But that's the damn thing…I wanted her ta see my ass with you…might be a shit thing ta do…but that's what I wanted her ta see…me with you."

Carol didn't respond. She looked at him and waited on him because it was evident that he wasn't done yet. When he continued speaking after chewing on the words a moment more, her feeling was confirmed.

"When I was kissin' on ya there," Daryl said, "I started it ta be a damn show…but then I just liked it. An' hell…maybe I gotta little outta line earlier…'cause I was riled up…but I ain't meant ta hurt'cha…"

He stopped talking. Most of the anger, it seemed, had dissolved. Now he was left looking a little sheepish.

"Daryl," Carol said, "I think…that what you need…what we both need…is just to calm down and to think about things. Why don't you go home…calm down…and really think about this."

He started to shake his head at her and looked like he was about to protest or about to argue his case, so she shook her head quickly at him and cut him off.

"I'm not pissed off," she said quickly. "I'm really not…but I do mean that you need to think about this. You need to think about the way that you…reacted…the way that you felt when you saw Janice and you need to…really think about it."

He tried to protest again and Carol held a hand up to him to stop him.

"I mean it, Daryl," Carol said. "You need to think about it and really figure out if there's something there that you still need to deal with…or if you want something there…but figure it out when you're calm and you're not acting on…emotion or instinct or anger…or whatever it is."

She shook her head at him.

"I mean it…you call me after you've thought about it," Carol said. "All of it…you think about it and you call me…you've got my number and you know where to find me."

She didn't allow him to protest or to argue. She opened the truck door and got out, dragging her bag behind her and not listening when he tried to sidestep out of things.

"Call me," she repeated again, just before she closed the truck door and walked, her bag over her shoulder, with some determination to her door and let herself in. She watched his truck pull out of the driveway from her window when he finally decided to go home and think about how he really wanted to deal with things…or if he really wanted to deal with them at all.


	41. Chapter 41

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter here.**

**I just want to say thank you for reading and reviewing! It means a lot to know there are people that enjoy this story. It keeps me going when I'm struggling with the story sometimes. I appreciate it! **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl stayed in his room until he was certain that Merle's guest had left from the silence in the house…a silence he might have appreciated a little the night before. Then he finally made his way out, half expecting Merle to be gone too, but Merle was there, sitting at the table with one of the mixing bowls filled to the brim with cereal he didn't even really like all that much, eating it and reading one of the few parts he picked out of the newspaper to read each day.

Daryl got himself the juice out of the refrigerator and poured a glass before he sat down at the table, groaning a little to himself over his lack of sleep.

Tyreese had called him last night and left a message on his phone saying they didn't have any emergencies and since he knew that "he was out late" he didn't have to come in. He'd gotten the message when he'd left Carol's house…apparently he'd done the same for Merle.

Merle didn't speak to Daryl when he sat down, at least not immediately. He continued to munch at his cereal and read whatever it was that had his attention for the moment, but Daryl knew as soon as Merle finished whatever he'd been reading and put the piece of paper down, fighting with it a little because nobody could fuck up a newspaper like Merle Dixon, he was about to say something.

Merle was smirking at him, though, and Daryl just shook his head at his brother, getting an eyebrow raise in response.

"Figured you weren't comin' home last night," Merle said.

"Yeah figured you didn't think I was home," Daryl responded. "Were you two fuckin' or makin' damn fruit salad?"

Merle chuckled.

"Fruit's for the fuckin'," Merle commented. "S'a lil' system we got all worked out. See…bananas…they yellow…means things ain't too bad…but don't be so damn enthusiastic about it…strawberries…they red…"

Merle stopped and shrugged.

"Hell…red means stop like it always do," Merle said.

Daryl rolled his eyes up to look at Merle.

"Just say fuckin' stop…that shit sound dumb," Daryl commented.

"Bananas an' strawberries ain't dumb," Merle said. "Some damn times ya stay stop an' ya don't mean it…but ain't too damn often ya brain's gettin' into a good damn lay an' you up an think it's a good damn time for a snack."

Daryl shook his head again.

"What's got you pissin' in the wind this mornin'?" Merle asked.

He got up from the table and set about fixing himself a cup of coffee from the coffee pot that was spitting and hissing at the moment, signaling that it was either finally dying or that it had almost brewed the pot requested of it.

"Coffee?" Merle asked.

"Yeah," Daryl responded.

Daryl sighed and groaned a little at his feeling over the lack of sleep from the night before. He wanted to blame it all on Merle and the damn jungle noises coming from his part of the house…but the truth was he doubted he would have slept all that good anyway.

"Fuckin' shit with Janice," Daryl said. "Carol give me walkin' papers last night."

"Hell no she didn't," Merle said in a slightly amused tone, his back still to Daryl as he finished making the mugs of coffee and brought them over, putting one on the table in front of Daryl. "What the hell happened? Ain't you already told her about Janice?"

Daryl nodded his head.

"I told her about Janice…but last night…shit just got outta hand," Daryl said. He tasted the coffee and got up for more sugar. He brought the glass canister, one that Merle had either picked up somewhere from a restaurant sale or one he'd jacked from some restaurant at some point, and put it on the table between them.

"Outta hand how?" Merle asked. "You looked pretty set on go when you left last night."

"That's the damn thing," Daryl said. "I _was_ pretty set on go…'cause fuckin' Janice pissed me off…an' then some shit happened with Carol an' she kneed me in the damn gut, told me ta go home an' think about what the hell I wanted."

Merle chuckled and slurped loudly at his coffee before turning back to his oversized bowl of probably soggy cereal.

"Why the fuck she knee ya in the gut?" Merle asked, his mouth full.

Daryl raised a lip at him.

"Shit just got outta hand," Daryl said. "Hell…she wasn't in the mood or whatever an' she said she weren't…but by the time it even registered for me she'd kneed me in the damn gut."

Merle laughed. Apparently he thought it was a lot funnier than Daryl had thought it was at the time. He had every intention of stopping…it just took the whole thing longer to sink in than apparently she thought was a good thing.

"Straw-berry," Merle said, still laughing to himself as he got up and went about cleaning up after his breakfast.

Daryl didn't respond.

He wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't even sure he had, with the ambience of the night before, entirely figured out what had happened or how he was supposed to deal with it all.

"She told me ta take my ass home…figure shit out," Daryl said.

"What'cha figured out there, lil' brother?" Merle asked, being kind enough this go around to wash and dry the bowl he used instead of leaving it for Daryl to deal with like he normally did.

"Not a damn thing," Daryl said.

Merle put the bowl up and then came back to the table.

"You want my advice or you gonna tell me ta fuck myself?" Merle asked, picking up the paper he'd abandoned earlier but not opening it at the moment. "'Cause I ain't in the mood ta waste my damn breath."

"Believe it or not?" Daryl asked. "I'll hear it…if you ain't just talkin' out'cha ass."

Merle chuckled again.

"You all about them damn happy lil' movies on television an' shit…been lookin' for more'n twenty years for some "Pretty Woman" or whatever that shit was you like so damn much," Merle commented, putting the paper back down on the table and drinking from his mug.

"'Pretty Woman' was a hooker, Merle," Daryl said.

Merle didn't look amused. He just shrugged.

"First damn decision you gotta make is ta find ya balls…where the hell'd ya put 'em? 'Cause I ain't seen the damn things since ya let Janice run off with 'em…" Merle commented.

Daryl flipped his brother off, raising his eyebrows at him and Merle chuckled.

"Next damn thing ya gotta do is get'cha fuckin' ass off the pot," Merle said. "Janice was a fuckin' cunt bitch any damn way…hell…I'da been over her quick as look at her…"

"I'm over Janice," Daryl commented.

"Looks ta me ya ain't," Merle said.

"You ain't never had nobody fuck around on ya ass," Daryl commented.

Merle chuckled again and shook his head.

"Nope…women don't fuck around on the best," Merle said. He wiped his smile off his face after a moment. "Women can't fuck around on my ass 'cause I don't put 'em in no damn place where they "mine" so they can't go fuckin' 'round…they free ta do what they damn well please, same as me."

"Andrea know that?" Daryl countered, feeling a little like he wanted to bite back at his brother, whether he had the ability to make a good point or not.

Merle shrugged.

"What's ta know?" He asked. "We fuck buddies…see? I like fuckin' Andrea…Andrea likes fuckin' me…if Andrea wanted ta fuck someone else…I don't give a shit, but she don't want to…"

Merle paused and the shit eating grin that he'd had his whole damn life spread across his face.

"'Cause…why the hell would she want to when this is prime meat right here," he said with a snort before he drained what was left in his coffee cup and put the cup down with the force that he might have used if he were drinking whiskey and requesting a refill with his glass.

Daryl curled his lip again at his brother and Merle's amusement only grew.

"So she fucked around on ya…big fuckin' deal…you gonna give up a piece you liked for a piece the skank'll throw at any damn body? That ain't what them damn movies you force my ass ta watch is all about…you don't pay no damn attention…make me watch that shit an' you too damn dense ta understand it…" Merle said, muttering to himself as he finished the statement and getting up to fix his second cup of coffee.

"I don't force you ta watch 'em," Daryl said, growing annoyed.

"That's what the hell ya gonna bite my damn head off about?" Merle asked. "Lemme ask ya somethin'…why Janice matter so damn much to ya? Why the hell Claudia matter so damn much ta ya back when ya broke the hell up with her? Mmmm? Fuck…why the hell any the bitches you dug up out from under some damn rocks somewhere matter so fuckin' much?"

Daryl didn't respond to that either.

There was the problem with living with someone literally your entire life. They knew everything about you, whether you wanted them to or not. They'd seen you at your highest highs and they'd seen you at your lowest lows. When you lived with someone forever, you couldn't forget what the hell you'd seen and done because there was someone else who had either seen it happen or heard you tell of it.

"Want me ta tell ya?" Merle asked.

Daryl shrugged and rested his elbow on the table, putting his head on his hand so he could watch Merle more comfortably since he apparently wasn't coming back to the table.

"You gon' do it anyway," Daryl commented.

"I seen you…buyin' ya damn flowers…an' cards…an' takin' 'em out ta they fancy ass dinners…an' what the hell was the one that'cha took that damn trip with? Took her on a damn trip…an' they was the one you was buyin' them chocolate-y doughnut things for that she was likin'…" Merle commented.

"You takin' a trip down memory lane over there, or you gotta damn point, Merle?" Daryl said, cutting Merle off.

"Point is ya done all that shit…ya done it here an' ya done it there…but'cha done it with them," Merle said. "You was tellin' my ass all along you was gonna get'cha one a' them real nice lives…just like on t.v…an' you still ain't got that shit. My ass ain't gettin' no younger…an' that means you ain't neither."

"Yeah…so? So I fucked up every time I tried any damn thing," Daryl commented. "Thanks for pointin' the shit out. That helped more'n I can tell ya. Janice is just another damn good example a' me fuckin' up…doin' the wrong damn thing…"

"Mmmm…" Merle hummed. "You doin' the wrong damn thing? Or you doin' the right damn thing with the wrong damn woman?"

Merle came around to the table again but didn't sit down. He picked up the paper, glanced at it, and tucked it under the arm that held the refilled coffee mug.

"You like this Carol chick as much as you liked Janice?" Merle asked.

Daryl sat there a moment, thinking about it, pretending that Merle wasn't staring at him.

He did like Carol. He liked her a lot.

And in many ways she was downright intimidating because she wasn't like any woman he'd known before…but he found that pretty exciting too.

But for the most part he'd been holding back from trying to like her too much. He'd been, in more ways than one, waiting on the shoe to drop. He'd been waiting on the whole thing to just go south like it was likely to go…and like it had gone now. At least if he didn't give as much of a damn, it wouldn't be a punch in the gut…though it had ended with a knee to the gut.

"Yeah…" Daryl said finally. "I liked her…better'n Janice."

And if he was honest with himself…he liked her more than he'd ever really like Janice. Janice had been, in a lot of ways, someone that he'd worked to make himself like…he'd seen as her something of a last ditch effort. He'd ended up going out with her because he was down on the way that shit turned out sometimes in life and she'd been interested in him…she'd talked about all the shit that he thought he wanted out of life and hadn't found yet. He'd figured, like he'd figured before, that they could make it work.

But Carol was different and maybe that was what made him trust things even less with her than he did with a woman that he had simply thought he could make something out of nothing with.

"Mmmm…" Merle hummed again. "Then maybe you got'cha damn answer...start doin' the right things with the right woman…this ain't damn rocket science, Daryl. Get'cha damn head outta ya ass 'cause I'm sick a' ya mopin' 'round anyway…that shit's bad for ambience."

Daryl nodded.

He didn't thank his brother for the conversation or anything of the like. He just chuckled to himself.

"Ambience? That another one a' ya words you learned from ya puzzle books?" Daryl asked.

Merle looked unamused and shifted his paper about, taking a drink out of his coffee mug.

"Know that shit 'cause I'm fuckin' literate…there's another word for ya ta look up, lil' brother…if you need me…I'll be on the throne," Merle said, walking toward the bathroom without another word to Daryl about the problems that Merle had never had, but never failed to have opinions about…of course Merle often had opinions about things he didn't have a damn bit of experience with.


	42. Chapter 42

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter. **

**I was having trouble getting going again here, but I'm trying to get it in gear again. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Carol hadn't expected to hear from Daryl or to see him for a few days…so she wasn't really surprised when he hadn't called the next day and he hadn't sent any kind of message. And she wasn't surprised when he didn't call the next day either.

She didn't want him to rush into this. She felt like, if he'd responded immediately…within a few hours or even a day…that he wouldn't be acting on something that he wanted, he would simply be reacting to what had happened. He might simply be trying to keep something from happening, evening if it was something that he'd later figure out that he didn't mind if it happened.

Time meant that he was thinking about it. Time meant that when he did decide to reappear, for better or for worse, depending on the situation, he would have actually thought about the situation with Carol and what he wanted from their relationship, or what he didn't want from it.

And maybe, Carol knew, he'd decide that he didn't want anything with her. Maybe she'd been some kind of rebound for him from his relationship with Janice…and maybe he'd even find his way back to Janice.

Carol had already decided, though, that she'd be fine with whichever decision he made.

Carol liked Daryl…but she'd had a hard time ever since her marriage really letting herself get too involved with a man. She kept her distance and until now it hadn't proved to be a bad thing. One by one any man that she'd ever tried to date had ended up being a bad decision on her part, for one little reason or another, so she'd done well by not getting too close. She'd done well by keeping the upper hand on her emotions and her feelings…keeping control of the situation.

Or maybe that had been why they'd all gone somewhat sour along the way. It was always hard to tell if the chicken or the egg came first.

No matter the reason, though, Carol had found that it was better not to try to believe that some man was going to be something special to her…something that she simply couldn't do without. It had been better to decide ahead of time that every man was something she could do without…so when she was left without him, there wasn't any real gap to be filled in her life.

And that's where she was with Daryl too. If he left, if he went to Janice and found that she was what he really wanted and he couldn't get over or…or even if he found the little blonde from Salty's that had inspired Carol's one memorable dramatic moment with a fruit flavored beverage…she'd be just fine.

She had her health, her home, her friends, her café. She had everything that she really needed out of life and she was happy…just as happy as she needed to be.

She didn't need a man who might very well surprise her like her husband once had.

And if Daryl came back?

She liked him…and she'd meant what she'd said. She would take him back. She would date him and enjoy his company, reaping the benefits of it for herself…but she wouldn't let herself get too caught up or too starry eyed over him. She'd make sure that she kept her control.

So Carol had come to terms with whatever it was that she needed to come to terms with long before she knew what she was dealing with.

And she'd been a little surprised when, out of the blue and three days after the incident, Daryl had turned up unannounced by phone or by text at the café around lunch time, dressed to…in Carol's opinion…impress.

And he'd come bearing a single yellow rose.

When she'd seen him come through the patio with determined strides and into the building, she'd pretended that she didn't see him. She'd continued smiling and talking to the table of people that she was waiting on.

And she must have done a convincing job of pretending not to notice his presence because he'd gone over to the counter and leaned against it, studying the rose he held in his hand and waiting.

She didn't know how long he might have waited there because her game was over when Jacqui, apparently also convinced by her show, came over and offered to take her tables because she had "company" and gestured toward Daryl with her head, forcing Carol to smile and thank her before wiping her hands on her pants and walking in Daryl's direction.

He raised his head and offered her a half smile as she neared him and then he offered her the rose.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the flower. "It's pretty," she said with a smile.

Daryl cleared his throat and nodded before scratching at his face with his thumb.

"I thought about it…about what'cha said…about the shit I pulled with Janice," Daryl said.

"Oh?" Carol asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

He nodded.

"I was an asshole…an' I know I was…so I'm hopin' ya let me make it up to ya…" Daryl said.

Carol sucked in a breath and tried her best to give him a look that said she wasn't convinced that she was going to let him "make it up to her". Although she'd already decided she was fine with continuing with…whatever this was…and joining him for dinner and for whatever bedtime fun she wanted to indulge in with him…she was curious to see how he intended to come back from the other night.

And she could pretend pretty well, when she wanted to, that she was still bothered by something that she'd long since gotten over completely.

"What did you have in mind?" Carol asked finally when she could tell that Daryl, his nerves painted all over his face, wasn't going to speak until prodded.

Daryl chewed at his cuticle a moment, straightening himself up from his leaning position on the counter.

"You 'member that place we talked about? The place ya said ya might like ta go? The castle place?" Daryl asked.

Carol nodded her head.

"I found one of 'em…but it ain't the one closest ta here…it's at the beach an' I done bought tickets…for the weekend. I got a room, two beds so you ain't gotta feel like I'm…" Daryl stopped talking and shrugged. He shook his head at her. "You ain't gotta feel like I'm pushin' ya into nothin'…but it's at the beach an' the weather's nice. Figured we could go up for a weekend…go one night ta the castle thing an' hell we can do whatever else you want while we there or we ain't gotta do nothin'."

Carol stared at him.

She hadn't had a man ask her away for a weekend in literally longer than she could remember. She had taken a few trips with Ed here and there, but that wasn't something that most people not willing to stay past the fifth date pulled out their pocket and dusted off for her.

"You want me to go away with you?" Carol asked, making sure that she'd heard correctly the offer that Daryl was putting on the table.

Daryl cleared his throat again and nodded.

"Just for a weekend," he said. "I was thinkin' 'bout what'cha said an' I was an asshole…I wanted Janice ta see me with you…but…this way…ya go with me for the weekend…we ain't gon' see no damn body neither one of us know. I figured…"

He stopped abruptly and Carol noticed the blood rising in his face. He was struggling with every moment of this, for whatever reason, and it was evident.

He chuckled ironically and shook his head.

"I ain't no damn good at this shit," Daryl said. "I had a whole damn speech prepared an' I lost the damn thing between my truck an' here…"

"I think you're doing just fine," Carol said. "Go on…"

Daryl cleared his throat again and Carol wondered if it was actually possible for a human being to choke to death on words.

"Figured if ya went away with me…if we…you'd know that it weren't for no show, Carol," Daryl said, spitting the last words out like they were literally burning the inside of his mouth. "Whatever we do…ain't for nobody else 'cause I don't know no damn body there an' neither do you."

Carol bit her lip to keep from smiling.

And she bit her lip to remind herself that she was, at the moment, on the verge of being too flattered for her own good.

Because it was about the nicest offer that had ever been made to her by a man, and that was multiplied by the fact that she thought it sounded completely sincere. It didn't sound like the speeches that were made, sometimes, by a man that you could see dripping with his own self-confidence…dripping with the knowledge that his words were going to woo you into acting just as he wanted you to act.

Daryl's words were dripping with all the insecurity of a teenage boy asking her to the prom and figuring before he'd spoken a word that she was going to laugh in his face and skip off to tell everyone else how ridiculous he'd been for putting the offer on the table.

"When is this? That you've bought a hotel for?" Carol asked, making note in her mind to definitely give him a hard time at some point about the fact that he was presumptuous enough to book a hotel ahead of time.

"This weekend," Daryl said. "We got the place for Friday, Saturday, an' then check out Sunday…so we can go whenever ya want…"

Carol considered it.

She hadn't been to the beach in a while and she liked the beach…at least she liked going there with her friends since that's who she'd gone with the past few times she'd been.

She must have taken longer to respond, though, than Daryl thought was necessary because he cleared his throat again.

"So…will ya go with me?" He asked.

Carol allowed herself to smile then. She nodded her head slightly.

"Yeah…I'll go," she said. "This weekend? The beach?"

Daryl nodded his head.

"I'll drive…can pick ya up here…or at'cha house…or…you tell me," Daryl said. "You call it…when we leave or whatever…I already took the time off too."

Carol tipped her head to the side and lowered her eyebrows.

"You were awfully confident that I was going to say yes," she said.

Daryl smiled and shook his head.

"Nah…I really weren't," he said. "But I knowed that if I didn't do all that ahead a' time…I'd chicken out an' talk myself outta the whole damn thing between my truck an' here…this way I couldn't talk myself out of it so damn easy."

Carol laughed at the explanation and Daryl suddenly looked a little less nervous and joined her in laughing at the situation.

"OK," she said, nodding her head. "Let's go to the beach this weekend!" She declared.

Daryl's smile broadened.

"You mean it?" He asked, tipping his head and looking at her like he still believed she might be playing a trick on him. Maybe he was telling the truth in having booked the place just to make himself go through with the offer…otherwise he did a really good job of faking insecurity.

Carol smiled again and nodded once more, a little more dramatically to stress her point.

"Yes…I mean it," she said. "I'll take Friday off…let Jacqui run the place…and you pick me up at my house in the morning."

Daryl smiled.

"Well alright then," he said. "Reckon we gon' make us a weekend of it."

"I reckon we are," Carol responded with a giggle, surprised at herself and how pleased she was with prospect.

Even though she had really no grand expectation for the trip, she was looking forward to it now simply for whatever bit of adventure it might have to offer.


	43. Chapter 43

**AN: Here we go, another little chapter here. **

**I'm trying to spread the word around on all my fics, but I'm about to be doing all kinds of things and life is going to be a little different for me for a couple of months. I'll be updating when and where I feel I can, but I want to let everyone know that if updates aren't as frequent as usual, I haven't abandoned anything and I will be back! **

**I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think! **

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"You reckon you packed enough stuff?" Daryl asked when he finished loading Carol's things into the truck and fixed the tarp over the back that he'd brought with him. "I did say weekend right? I ain't slipped an' said week…or year?"

Carol scoffed at his teasing and put the small basket of food she'd packed into the front of the truck where they'd be sitting.

"If it's too much," she commented, "then I'm sure we can leave out all the stuff I brought to cover what I'm sure you didn't think about…sunscreen, beach towels, all of that."

Daryl made a face and then laughed. Clearly he'd forgotten at least one of the items that she'd listed. Carol had thought that might be the case. She'd been on enough trips with Andrea alone that she knew that some people just weren't good at packing what they might need or at packing accordingly…and men tended to be far worse than even the most forgetful of women when it came to being prepared for eventual inevitabilities.

Daryl didn't voice any words after what she said, though, he simply walked a circle around the truck, checking the tarp once more, and then he came and stood by the truck door that she already had open, gesturing for her to climb inside.

Carol thanked him, offered him the smile that had been unwaveringly plastered to her face for nearly two days in anticipation of the trip, and climbed into the cab of the truck to buckle up and wait for him to come around and take his place to get the trip started.

Carol loved road trips, but she also knew that it was one of her downfalls on nearly every one that she'd ever been on that she built them up in her head to a point that nothing in reality could ever actually live up to it. It was something she knew…but still she was unable to stop doing it.

Though she was doing her best to keep her expectations as low as possible for this trip…she didn't want to be disappointed and she didn't want Daryl to find he'd disappointed her when it was only because she'd set some kind of ridiculous ideal in her mind for how wonderful things were going to be simply by merit of it being a trip that she thought she'd enjoy.

They weren't long out of her neighborhood on what would be about a six hour trip, and Daryl reached over, turning on the radio in the truck.

"Find somethin' for us ta listen to?" He asked.

"What did you have in mind?" Carol asked.

He shrugged.

"Hell…I don't care…no opera or nothin'…" He said.

Carol laughed to herself at the thought that he felt it necessary to point out to her that opera might not be the preferred music of road trips. She flipped through the stations, lingering on the ones that currently were playing commercials to find out what they might play after they tried to hock whatever wares they were supposed to sell for the companies that kept them on the air, and finally she settled on what she hoped was a classic rock station.

From the smile that spread across Daryl's face when she stopped and waited, watching him, for his response, she assumed that she'd chosen wisely.

"Good?" She asked.

"I ain't complainin'," he commented.

Carol sat back in the seat and watched out the window as they passed by the ever changing scenery.

"What do you want to do while we're there?" She asked after a moment.

She turned to watch Daryl who was watching the road and chewing at his cuticle absentmindedly.

"Hell…tickets we got for that thing is for tomorrow night," Daryl said. "Other than that…I ain't got no plans…talked ta the woman that booked the place we stayin' in an' it oughta be right on the beach if she ain't lied ta me…we can go swimmin' if you into that…if you ain't…"

He trailed off and Carol nodded to herself.

He didn't need to finish because she understood what he was saying. He was making an effort to make this trip as much about her as he could…either that or he really wasn't any good at planning trips and was simply satisfied to let her take the lead. Either way, she thought it was a nice gesture.

"I haven't been to the beach in a while…" she said. "We could play it by ear…we've got to eat sea food while we're there."

Daryl chuckled.

"Crab legs…" he remarked. "I asked her an' she said they's a lotta places, all you can eat…figure one of 'em's gotta be pretty decent? Maybe we hit one up for supper when we get there…just get lunch on the road?"

Carol smiled and nodded.

"That sounds good!" She said. "I love crab legs…I can probably eat more than you can."

He glanced at her quickly, smirking, before he turned his attention back to the road.

"You couldn't eat more of anything than I could," Daryl said.

Carol hummed at him.

"That sounds like a bet," she remarked.

He chuckled.

"Fine…it's a bet," he said. "I win, I pick somethin' we do even if you don't wanna do it an' you gotta be a damn good sport about it. You win…I'll do whatever the hell ya pick…"

"Within reason," Carol said quickly. "No one gets to do something…horrible…just because you lost."

"Now you gettin' nervous, huh?" Daryl responded.

"My stipulations are good for you too, you know?" Carol said.

Daryl chewed his lip and nodded.

"Within reason…nothin' that's too damn bad," he gave in after a moment.

"We can play putt putt somewhere," Carol said. "Walk on the beach…at dark?"

Daryl looked at her with something of a smirk again before cutting his eyes back at the traffic around them.

"What?!" Carol responded. "It could be romantic."

"That's me," Daryl commented. "I'm a real romantic kinda guy."

Carol smiled.

"I think you might be…you might not know it…but I think the whole trip thing, well, it's kind of romantic," Carol commented.

Daryl chuckled to himself but didn't respond with words in any way.

"I'ma tell ya right now I ain't seen the place we stayin' at," Daryl said. "So don't bust my balls it turns out ta be some kinda shitty place."

"That's half the adventure of road trips," Carol said. "One time I went to the mountains with Alice and Andrea…it was terrible. We were stopping every night just wherever we got tired…and this one place that we stopped we'd been driving for almost two hours just looking for something that didn't look like it came straight out of a horror movie. You know the places? The ones you pass and you think you're not stopping there because you don't want to be on the news?"

Daryl laughed and glanced back at her, nodding his head.

"Sounds like some the damn places I've lived before," he commented. "So what'd ya do?"

"Well, finally we stopped," Carol said. "But it was…oh it was awful. Alice goes into pay and Andrea and I were getting the bags out the car and when Al gets back she tells us that the man…this old guy that looked like Lurch almost…he was really excited that we were there…"

Daryl laughed, obviously anticipating already where the story was going.

"'Cause the fucker ain't seen no damn body in goin' on twenty years an' then the three a' y'all show up!" He declared.

Carol laughed in response and nodded her head enthusiastically, shifting a little in her seat to continue her story.

"That's really it," she said. "We got into this room and the first thing that Andrea does is go to the bathroom and she screams…and Alice and I didn't know what to do. We thought she was being…murdered or something…and she yells for Alice to help her and Alice goes in there and there's a spider in the bathroom that's huge! And there were bugs in the bed…and nothing worked and there was this one light…"

Carol stopped, laughing to herself at the memory of the trip and Daryl kept glancing at her, obviously waiting for her to get herself under control, but his expression of anticipation for the story was only making it harder to finish it, even if it was going to be one of those stories that she knew he would find less hilarious than she did simply because he wasn't there and stories were never as funny if you weren't part of them.

"What happened with the light?" Daryl prompted finally, laughing a little, obviously spurred on by her laughter at it.

Carol wiped at her eyes.

"There was this light that had no switch," she said.

"You mean you couldn't turn it on?" Daryl asked.

"No! We couldn't turn it off," Carol said. "We spent about an hour flipping everything in the room…we even were flipping some switches that were in the closet and nothing would turn the light off."

Daryl laughed, though his laugh wasn't as hearty as Carol's simply because he wasn't part of it.

"What the hell'd ya do?" He asked.

"We finally tried to unscrew the bulb but we couldn't so we just threw something over it…but then we hardly slept all night because it was one of those things that we just kept laughing about it, you know? Someone would say something, and then we'd laugh, and then someone would say something else and we'd laugh again," Carol said. "The next day we were nearly dead."

Daryl chuckled.

"I'da broke the damn bulb," he said. "I can't sleep with no light on if I ain't just drunk enough ta pass out or somethin' like that."

Silence fell between them for a moment. Carol was reliving, in her own way, the trip in her mind, but Daryl was quiet too…thinking about whatever it was that the story might have triggered for him. And it was Daryl that broke the silence a few moments later.

"So were ya…pissed off? I mean 'cause the place you stayed at was shitty an' the trip didn't go good?" He asked.

Carol considered the question for a moment before responding.

"No…we weren't pissed off at all," she said. "In fact, it was one of the best trips I've ever been on. The trip went great…just because the place we stayed wasn't wonderful, it didn't ruin the trip. In fact, I guess it made it better because it gave us more laugh about than if we'd stayed somewhere great."

Daryl fell quiet again and Carol dug around in the basket full of food that she'd packed, coming up with a water bottle and cracking open the lid of it, sucking some of it down before offering it to Daryl. He looked at it and then he took it, muttering a thanks before he drank down a large share of it and passed the bottle back.

Then, after a few more moments had passed, he laughed lightly to himself and his thumb returned to his mouth for more of the chewing that he seemed to do without noticing at all.

"What?" Carol asked, trying to prompt him to speak so that she didn't fall into feeling like she was talking too much.

Daryl chuckled again and shook his head.

"I just hope that's how the hell ya feel," he said, "I mean if shit…whatever…don't go good…I…uh…can be pretty damn good at fuckin' things up, even when I ain't tryin'."

Carol sat there a moment, thinking about what he'd said.

She hated, if he really felt that way, that he felt like he was a person who just naturally "fucked things up"…there had been a lot of times in her life when she'd felt the same way about herself, and it wasn't a nice feeling.

She hummed at him.

"I think…" she started and then stopped. "I don't think that you're going to fuck anything up," she finished. "I think that we'll have a good time…we just have to…go with it, wherever that may be."

He chuckled again and cut his eyes at her, nodding his head slightly but not responding before he reached and turned up the song, thumping his fingers on the steering wheel in tune with the music.


	44. Chapter 44

**AN: Here we go. Short chapter here to move us on a bit. More to come on the beach trip.**

**I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think.**

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Daryl thought the place they got the room at wasn't exactly how it had been "advertised" to him when he called about it, but it wasn't terrible. And if Carol hated it, she was doing a pretty good job of pretending she didn't.

He brought the bags up, having insisted that she carry nothing beyond what he couldn't wrestle out of her hands before she'd gone to check them in, and when he put the last of the things down and sat on one of the beds, she was standing out on the little balcony space connected to the room.

"Come out here!" Carol said, coming back to the doors that led out there. "Smell the air…it smells great!"

Daryl chuckled to himself and got up, going out into the cramped little space with her and lighting a cigarette. They had a pretty nice ocean view, that much had been presented to him correctly.

He watched Carol as she leaned on her arms on the railing in front of her, looking out, an odd sort of expression on her face.

"So…what'cha wanna do?" Daryl asked, almost hating to disturb her but knowing that time kept ticking on and they only had a couple of days for the whole trip.

Carol looked at him and tipped her head to the side.

"It doesn't matter to me," she offered. "Dinner…walk on the beach?"

Daryl nodded his head.

"You ain't wanna go nowhere special?" Daryl asked.

Carol turned her full body then to face him.

"Is there somewhere special we need to go?" She asked.

Daryl chuckled to himself.

"Listen…I'ma be straight with ya…I just don't want'cha disappointed. Last trip I took with a woman was a damn nightmare. We run all over the place an' when we got back from the trip I figured there weren't nothin' left ta do that we ain't squeezed in…an' she was still bitchin' that we didn't do half the shit she wanted ta do," Daryl said. "I just don't want'cha ta be disappointed."

Carol smiled softly at him and narrowed her eyes a little.

"You can't disappoint me," she said. "I don't have any expectations…so I can't be disappointed."

"It ain't really time ta eat supper…" Daryl offered.

They could eat now if they wanted, but that would put them eating at all the early bird specials with the old folks who had to eat and get home by seven.

And Daryl was tired enough to feel like one of those old people right this moment, but he was doing his best to keep it from showing. He figured he could collapse after the whole trip thing and she wouldn't have to be any wiser about the fact that driving six hours had left him in a fog.

"How about this," Carol said after a moment. "How about…we rest a little…break in the room? Then we have dinner…somewhere we can get those crab legs you promised…we walk on the beach? Tomorrow we can go down…enjoy the beach…play putt putt at one of those cheesy themed places if there's time? Go to the castle place for dinner? And we just play it by ear…if we see anything else that we want to do, we figure out if we can do it…if we don't, we don't."

Daryl chuckled and snubbed out his cigarette butt, stepping inside the doors long enough to toss it into the fake bronze trash can in the room. He stepped back out onto the little porch thing.

"That's really what'cha wanna do?" He asked.

Carol smiled and nodded, raising her eyebrows at him.

"That's really what I want to do…unless that disappoints you?" She asked.

Daryl shook his head.

"Nah…I'm fine long as you are," he said.

Carol smiled and nodded her head before she slipped by him and back into the room. She stood, toeing off her shoes and he started to shut the doors.

"Leave them open?" She asked. "Let the air in?"

He stopped in his movements to shut them and instead pushed them wider open for her. They were high enough up that he didn't figure anything besides seagulls could see into their room at any rate.

"Which one's your bed?" He asked, starting to take his shoes off.

Carol hummed at him.

"Are we really sleeping in different beds?" She asked.

"Hey…that's your call too," Daryl said. "You the one callin' the shots."

"Well," Carol said, drawing the word out like she was carefully considering it, "I'm sleeping in the bed closest to the patio…if you want to join me, I think there might be enough room…but I'm not going to tell you where to sleep."

Daryl chuckled to himself and sat down on the bed, rearranging it a little.

"Fine," he said. "Then I'm sleepin' here too, I reckon."

Carol smiled softly and came over, sitting down on the bed herself and quickly lying down on the side that he assumed was going to be hers. Daryl wasn't sure if she was going to allow it, but he was going to see if she was as open as she seemed right now, so he leaned in for a kiss.

And first she skirted away from him, turning her head quickly, but then she returned with a light laugh, kissing him and he moved his body, joining her on the bed, never fully breaking the kiss.

"Rest," Carol said when he finally pulled out of it.

"That's what I'm doin'," Daryl said, dipping his head and kissing her again, now allowing one of his hands to trail down to her hip and his thumb to catch in the waistband of the khaki capri pants she was wearing.

Her hand closed over his and pulled his away from its settled destination before she broke the kiss again.

He hovered over her a moment, looking at her in the sunlight that came in from the open doors in a way that he hadn't really taken to study her before.

And she didn't break the look between them.

Her face was spotted with soft brown freckles and around her bright blue eyes there were soft lines…lines made more prominent when she smiled, but that still remained when she was looking at him as steadily as she was right now.

She was older than any of the women that Daryl had ever dated before…but in the moment he found that harder to remember than he sometimes found it, when he was reminding himself of how important the fact was…or how important he'd always believe it was.

The intensity with which she watched him watching her, though, soon got to be too much for Daryl and he shied away, breaking the eye contact. He moved his body off of hers a little, propping himself up on his elbow.

"No?" He asked finally.

She smiled softly and shook her head.

"No," she said. "Just rest."

Daryl nodded his head, hoping he understood the message loud and clear and that "no" simply meant "no"…and not that he was supposed to do something else.

He dropped down, getting situated on the bed for a nap, since that's what this apparently was going to be and he wasn't really against an hour or so of sleep if he could get it. Carol shifted around too, arranging herself on the bed, and he tentatively moved a little closer to her.

She didn't object to that, and he, likewise, didn't object when she reached and moved his arm, draping it loosely over her body.

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Carol woke up before Daryl did, but she wasn't surprised. Riding for that many hours could make her tired, but driving it would naturally be a bit more of push. She eased out from under his arm, careful not to wake him, and stepped back onto the little patio of their room to judge the time by the sun.

It was nice just being there. She felt more relaxed than she had in a while…but something about being on vacation had always done that for her. She felt like when she went on trips she automatically seemed to just loosen up, especially when the expectation was low. Too much expectation and the vacation became more stressful than everyday life.

She breathed in the salty sea air for a few moments before slipping back into the room and going directly to the bathroom to unpack her oversized shower bag that she lugged along because she didn't like hotel soaps and shampoos.

She left the door ajar to let the steam out and undressed, turning the water on as hot as it would come out.

While she took her time, spending far more time showering than would ever be necessary, she thought about the whole situation.

Daryl was trying…and it was so obvious that he was trying. In fact, it was ridiculously flattering to her…and it had been a while since a man had made her feel this flattered by his attentions.

Whether he was trying to make up for the whole thing that had happened with Janice…something she wasn't really mad about as much as she simply wanted him to figure out what he wanted…or whether his attentions were simply the way that he wanted to act, she was enjoying them.

And for that, she would do her best to make sure that he enjoyed himself.

Carol washed and shaved, even though she'd shaved the night before as well, before she got out and toweled off, lingering a moment in front of the wall sized mirror in the bathroom that was half clouded over with the steam that hadn't escaped. She slathered herself with lotion and stepped out of the bathroom then, not bothering to cover herself and appreciating the refreshing feel of the cool air of the room that contrasted with the heat still puddling on her skin from the shower.

She went through her suitcase and carefully selected the bra and underwear she'd wear…a little something she picked up while she was shopping for a bathing suit for the trip, her old one being more suited for the garbage than public…and then the light dress that she'd wear…a dress that she loved because it made her feel, whether or not it actually did anything for her appearance, deliciously delicate and girly. It made her feel as light as the fabric of the dress.

Daryl was still sleeping and Carol glanced over there, watching him for just a moment.

He was so worried about impressing her…and she was almost embarrassed to admit to herself that the sentiment was more impressive than anything else at the moment.

She sighed to herself and gathered up her selected clothes and her makeup bag, slipping back into the bathroom that had cleared out a little better from the steam so that she could start getting ready to go out to eat.

They might only be going to compete with each other in a crab eating contest before walking the obscene amount of calories off on the beach…but that didn't mean she had to skimp on making herself look every bit as good as she felt at the moment.


	45. Chapter 45

**AN: Here we go, it's another beach trip chapter. Just so you know, there are still more beach chapters to come…this little "piece" of the story is going to take a bit. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl thought he would absolutely bust before they finished eating. Carol had kept true to her word about eating the crab legs, and though he was pretty sure that she wasn't going to beat him, it was close.

It was so close, in fact, that he was almost shocked. She was physically so much smaller than him…such a tiny thing…and he couldn't for the life of him figure out where she was putting all the food she was eating when he thought he might explode simply from trying to best her.

But the important thing, really, was that they were having a good time. They were laughing and talking…and Daryl thought that he was having the best time that he'd had in a while.

It was easy to get along with her and it was easy to laugh with her…and that made it so much better than some of the dates that he'd been on before.

Merle had been, though Daryl hated to admit it, right.

Treating Carol the way that Daryl was always sure to treat every other woman that he'd been interested in, the way that he'd been careful to treat the women that he saw as potential women for the life that he had planned out in his mind…it was turning out in his favor. Maybe it was a case, after all, of treating the right woman the right way.

And when that thought crossed Daryl's mind, not long after he accepted the check and ceded to Carol that she'd won while she counted up destroyed crab bodies and teased him about cheesecake, Daryl felt his stomach churn…and it wasn't because of the crab this time.

It was because he'd never really known how he would deal with the feeling of finding the right woman…and he was almost terrified to think that he was jumping the gun now and thinking that it might just be Carol.

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Carol let Daryl hold tight to her hand, their arms swinging as they walked, both of them carrying their shoes in the free hand and sinking into the wet, thick sand where the tide rolled up and washed over their feet and around their ankles while they trudged along.

"Walking in sand is a good workout," Carol said.

Daryl hummed at her in the darkness, the beach semi illuminated by the businesses that popped up along the coast.

"It's really good after eating that much," Carol said.

Daryl laughed.

"You sure ain't lied," he said. "You put the hurt on some crabs."

Carol laughed to herself and swung his arm with a little more force than before.

"You know," she said, "I never would have eaten like that…once upon a time…in front of my husband? Never in a million years."

"No?" Daryl asked. "Your crab eatin' days didn't start 'til after he was gone? After you was divorced?"

Carol hummed, letting her mind drift back for a moment to life with Ed.

The thing about it was that parts of her marriage were so clear. There were moments that she could pick out in her mind that she could have described with the upmost attention to detail…she could so much as remember the way that his breath smelled and the way that the hair on the back of her neck prickled. Other parts, though, seemed so distant it was as though they weren't really real…it was like she'd made them up or seen them somewhere in a movie whose title she couldn't recall, even if the movie was simply the recording of her own life, or of a moment, perhaps, in her own life.

"A lot of my life…a lot of my days…didn't start until after I was divorced," Carol said, lowering her voice a little from what it had been before, even though they'd come across relatively few people down on the beach and any of those wouldn't have been interested in a single word about her or her life.

"Why you say that?" Daryl asked.

Carol hummed at him, but she didn't offer much information.

She was actively trying to decide how much she wanted to share with him…how much was enough that he might understand her without being too much? She didn't want, as was so easy to do, to give too much information and send the story barreling somewhere toward earning pity from Daryl. She was over, at this point in her life, the pity that anything she might tell inspired.

"My husband wasn't…a very kind man," Carol said. "And he didn't believe in women eating too much…a woman who ate too much would ruin her figure, he used to say. He was always worried about my figure."

"Ya figure…it looks pretty damn good ta me," Daryl said.

Carol smiled to herself and accepted the compliment for what it was…a simple, honest compliment.

"My brother…Merle? He says you don't trust no woman that don't eat good," Daryl said. "Don't mess with 'em…"

Carol laughed, struck by such a comment. There had been many times in her life, when she was over conscious of her figure, that she might have fallen into that category because she would have rather been hung by her toenails than eat anything substantial…especially within sight of another human being.

"Why's that?" She asked.

Daryl swung her arm, mirroring her earlier action, and pulled her forward a little faster as they continued to walk, the pier they were using as a "marker" for when they intended to turn around and head back not seeming to get any closer and leading Carol to believe that maybe it was much farther off than they thought it was…and it might not be a destination that they ever reached.

"Well…" Daryl said, pausing before he began the explanation. He never launched into it, though. Instead he laughed to himself and clucked. "Nah…you don't wanna know," he said finally.

"I do!" Carol protested. "Now you've got to tell me!"

Daryl laughed.

"Said a woman that can't enjoy food…well…she can't enjoy other things neither," Daryl said.

"Other things?" Carol asked.

"Yeah…you know…if she don't like eatin'…if she can't really get into how damn much she likes that cake…or them crab legs…then she ain't gonna let herself get into likin' nothin' else…you know?" Daryl said.

"Like what?" Carol asked.

She had a feeling she knew what he was talking about, but it was fun, when it happened, to get Daryl to squirm a little…and right now from the movements that his hand was doing with hers, she could tell that he was squirming.

"Like sex…OK? She don't like ta eat, she ain't gonna like ta fuck," Daryl said, spitting out the words. "Damn…" he muttered afterwards, apparently ashamed to have said it.

It only caused Carol to laugh.

"Maybe…there might be some truth to that," Carol said, ignoring the fact that he'd thought, apparently, she might be mortified by such a thought. "There were times when I hated eating…and I wasn't really…"

She broke off now, embarrassing herself a little.

"Well…go on," Daryl said, squeezing her hand. "You started it."

She snickered.

"I didn't like eating and I didn't really like fucking either," Carol said. "I…didn't feel comfortable…with my body…with the way I looked…with who I was with…"

Daryl didn't respond to what she said. He simply continued forward in silence, letting their words get swept up and be replaced in the moment by the sound of the surf around them.

Finally he did speak, though, his voice lower than before and much of the teasing out of it that had been there.

"But…you ate the hell out those crab legs," he said. "That means…well…does it mean…you comfortable now? With who you with?"

Carol smiled to herself and stepped sideways a little so that her body bumped his as they walked.

"Yeah," she said. "I guess that's what it means."

And Daryl pushed her fingers with his until she released his hand, and he dropped his arm over hers, pulling her against him so that they swayed together in their journey.

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Daryl didn't know how he'd let Carol pull him up the beach to this little club. He didn't even like Salty's all that much and there he knew what to expect. Yet, somehow, he'd allowed himself to be tugged up the beach and into the doors of this Toucan nightmare under her declarations that it would be fun and they'd just stay for a couple of drinks.

When the came up the beach and up the crowded porch of the place, Daryl let Carol take the lead in dragging him through the doors. Inside he followed her to the bar and she elbowed out a place for herself, and presumably one for him too, while he wandered to the other end of the bar to get the attention of the only person he could tell was a bartender and likely to fill drink orders for them.

Just off from the bar was a small dance floor of sorts where people were swirling around and dancing to the obnoxious beach music that seemed to be piped out of each and every speaker in any establishment that they'd entered, right down to the gas station where he'd gone in to pay to fill up the truck upon their arrival.

By the time that Daryl made it back to the bar where Carol was sitting, smiling from ear to ear and watching the dancers, he realized that she was watching them over the shoulder of a man that he didn't know…a man that was very clearly flirting with her.

Daryl cleared his throat as he shouldered into the tight space, somewhat wedging himself between the unwelcome man and the bar. He put the drinks down, sliding one toward Carol, and she took it and thanked him for it.

Then the unwelcome man eyed Daryl in a way that almost made him mad…the man looked at him like he was intruding.

"Daryl…this is…" Carol said.

"Floyd," the man interrupted quickly.

He looked to Daryl like the pretty boy type that spent their lives at the beach trying to turn an entirely unnatural color that made them look like overcooked carrots. He was their age if not older, but it was evident that this wasn't Floyd's first trip to the beach.

"He was telling me about the dance," Carol said, gesturing with her hand over Floyd's shoulder at the people who were dancing on the floor.

Daryl had to bite his tongue not to ask Floyd if he wouldn't mind backing off his girlfriend just a little…

"It's the Shag," Carol said, oblivious to the whole thing apparently. "Do you want to dance?"

Daryl realized the question was directed at him. He eyed the people on the dance floor before looking back at her.

"Ain't got no idea how to do that," he stated.

"Me either!" Carol declared, more loudly than she would normally talk given the noise of the bar. "We could learn…"

Daryl didn't want to dance. He hated dancing…and he especially hated dancing if it was some sort of choreographed dance that he didn't know the steps to.

"It's easy," Floyd declared, backing up a little. "I've been with a Shag club for years…I could teach you…"

And it was clear that the invitation wasn't to the two of them as he held a hand out to Carol.

She smiled at him and then looked at Daryl, raising her eyebrows like she was asking permission.

And Daryl didn't want her to dance the Shag with Floyd…or with any other Shagger out there on the little floor…but he didn't think he'd be wise to tell her she couldn't, so he shrugged slightly and swept his hand at her to give her the go ahead.

And that was all it took for her to take a swallow of her drink, put it on the bar, and give her hand to Floyd, hopping off her bar stool to be swept off to the floor.

And Daryl turned around and sat on his stool, watching her as she danced with the overtanned pretty boy that he'd decided he hated about as much as he hated anyone else at the moment.

As he watched he was thankful, at least, that this dance wasn't some kind of up close, body grinding, slow dance…at least it looked to be fast paced and something like a swing dance.

But still it made his blood boil just to watch her dancing with Floyd. Just to watch her smiling at the man, and laughing when she messed up a step and he corrected her with hands that were, in Daryl's opinion, already a little too friendly.

It made his blood boil just a little to see that there were other men out there, despite the fact that they had partners, partners that they sometimes traded, that were eyeing her as though they would trade off whoever they were dancing with for her in another round or two…as though they might acquire her from Floyd...not caring whether she knew the steps or not.

And Carol, from time to time, cast a glance in Daryl's direction before she sunk back into the dance that she was enjoying…it was written all over her face that she was enjoying it…and Daryl wondered if she was enjoying the dance so much, or if she was simply enjoying Floyd that much…if she was looking at Daryl to think that she regretted that she'd come there with him.

So he had something of an odd sensation wash over him, something like relief perhaps, when the look that Carol cast him from the floor wasn't one so much of enjoyment anymore as it was fatigue…maybe. It was a look that she'd had her fun…a look that she was tired of the dance, and maybe she was tired of Floyd…it was a look that said she wanted him to rescue her, not as a damsel in distress per se, but as a woman who wanted a dance to be over with a man who was too enthusiastic about the dance to read that his partner no longer wanted to participate in the festivities.

And Daryl was more than happy, when he read that look on her face, to walk over to the dance floor, tap Floyd, and declare that he and Carol had things to do…and to wish him a goodnight that she echoed as she put her hand warmly into Daryl's and followed him back to the bar to finish the drinks that were hot enough they requested ice to refresh them, so that they could call a taxi to take them back to their motel, saving them both the tiring walk back for a distance they'd failed to measure on their way there.


	46. Chapter 46

**AN: Just another short chapter here. It's just another piece to the "beach" story. There are at least a couple more to this part. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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When they got back to the hotel, Carol was surprised when Daryl dug around in his suitcase and produced a large plastic bottle of vodka. He cracked the top of it, smiling broader than he had been all evening.

"Did you think we might need that?" She asked.

He laughed.

"I just knew it was expensive as shit if ya don't bring ya own," he said. "Get them plastic cups outta the wrappers an' I'll pull them chairs out on the patio."

Carol thought the proposal sounded like a good one to her so she quickly went to start unwrapping the plastic cups in question while Daryl rearranged their room furniture to make a sitting area for them on the small little patio area that was really more designed for standing than for sitting.

When they were settled out in the space, the doors to the room still open, Daryl poured them both a drink of the vodka and Carol smelled it, making a gagging face at the thought of drinking the vodka straight.

Daryl laughed.

"Don't tell me you gonna chicken out on me…you got a stronger stomach than that," he said.

"Once I'm going," Carol said, smelling the liquid again, "I'm good at drinking just about anything…it's just the getting started."

Daryl raised his plastic cup and tapped it to hers.

"Down this one with me," he said. "Next one's gonna be easier."

She made a face and he smiled broadly at her, reaching over to tap the bottom of her cup. She shook her head at him but before she lost her nerve she tossed back the liquid, more or less a shot of the clear liquid courage, and then made a choking sound when she came up from swallowing it.

Daryl laughed and tossed his back with a similar motion, swallowing with much less effect than she had.

He poured them each a little more of the liquid before he returned the bottle to the ground between them.

Carol stretched, losing her shoes quickly, and put her bare feet against the cold metal rails in front of her.

"This stuff is rot gut," Daryl said. "Shoulda been smarter an' got somethin' for sippin'…looks like we doin' shots tonight."

"Should have got a mixer," Carol commented.

Daryl hummed.

"That too…I could go see if they ain't got a Coke machine or somethin' if you want me to?" He offered.

Carol looked at the liquid again, smelled it once more to find it less offensive now that her throat and chest felt a little warmer than before, and shook her head.

"I think we'll be alright," she said.

As a show, she drank down the second shot and then tipped her head at Daryl so that he followed suit before refilling the cups and settling a little deeper into his chair, digging around in his pocket for his cigarettes.

He lit one and offered the pack to Carol so she shook her head at the gesture.

"So tomorrow we can go down to the beach first thing in the morning," Carol said. "Get some sand time…"

Daryl nodded and drank from his cup, going about the action that would soon become automatic of refilling it.

"Be a damn good way ta handle the hangover, right?" He asked.

Carol laughed at that and drank hers before she offered him her cup.

"And the castle dinner tomorrow night…do you want to try to do putt putt tomorrow? Or…you think the beach and dinner is enough? Putt putt before we head out on Sunday?" Carol asked.

"Whatever you want," Daryl said. "But that dinner thing starts early…so I'd say we might do better ta push it."

"Sounds good to me," Carol agreed.

They fell silent for a bit, both enjoying the nice breeze that was blowing and the silence that was almost remarkable given their location. Carol found herself, from time to time, closing her eyes so that she could fully enjoy the feeling of the moment, especially since she was beginning to really feel the vodka that she was working through having a pleasant calming feeling on her body.

"You really enjoyed that dancing tonight," Daryl said. "With…what the hell was that guy's name?"

Carol opened her eyes and turned her head toward him.

"Floyd?" She asked. "I did like the dancing…I love to dance. It's so…exhilarating. You should have danced with me."

Daryl hummed.

"Don't care for dancing," he said. "I ain't no good at it."

"Dancing isn't about being good at it," Carol said. "It's about…feeling what you want to feel while you're doing it…happy…or…"

She faded out and Daryl tipped the bottle, filling her cup a little more despite the fact that she still had liquid there.

She drank a swallow out of it in response.

"So you think it ain't no damn big deal if you ain't no good at it?" Daryl asked.

"No…it isn't," Carol said. "You don't even have to have music…"

Daryl snorted and drank a swallow of the vodka. Afterwards he made a dramatic hiss like it was the most refreshing thing that he'd ever drank instead of cheap vodka that had a flavor that was not unlike rubbing alcohol.

"Yeah…dancin' with no music. That'll work out real damn good," he said with a smile.

Carol smiled at him, but it was less at what he'd said and more at the fact that she could see in his eyes that he was feeling entirely loosened up by the alcohol, and maybe by the setting, for the moment.

She shook her head lightly at him.

"It doesn't matter," she repeated. "Don't you remember the dance competition? Sadie? She can't hear a thing…and she danced better than some of us did. She danced with what she felt…that's the important part of dancing. Feeling."

Carol drank down what was left in her cup and then got up, meaning to make it over the various obstacles in the patio and back into the room, but she didn't make it that far.

Daryl reached out and caught her hand, tugging her quickly toward him so that she really had no choice but to step quickly and stop herself from falling down into his lap with more force than he would probably find desirable.

Carol smiled at him when she was in his lap.

"I don't know if these chairs will hold both of us," she said, raising her eyebrows up at him.

He leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against her cheek for just a second before he brought his lips lightly to hers. She pressed into him, parting her lips enough to let him know that he had permission to deepen the kiss.

And he took the permission granted to him, his tongue exploring her mouth. She smiled into the kiss and teased him back with her own tongue, almost unconsciously grinding her body into his a little.

He pulled away with a hiss and she realized that she had either unintentionally hurt him…or she'd aroused him more than he might appreciate in this particular position.

She quickly got to her feet, apologetic.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" she declared.

He drank the last of the liquid in his cup and put the cup on the ground, getting to his own feet. He shook his head at her and then ran one of his hands through her hair, catching what he could of her hair and tugging it gently before he brought his mouth back to hers for another kiss, his teeth catching her lip and tugging at it as he pulled out.

"No sorry," he said. "Ain't nothin' sorry here…"

Carol moved enough to pull him into the room with her, dark except for a tiny wall lamp that was burning, and she kissed him again while she tugged out the button down shirt that he had tucked into his pants, her fingertips slipping to the bare skin below to scratch gently at him.

His hands went to her waist and then they trailed around, lower, grabbing her ass roughly and almost lifting her off the ground.

She moved against him, swaying slightly, moving him with her motion.

He seemed, at the moment, eager to follow her wherever she might lead him.

Carol pulled her hands out and went to work on the buttons to his shirt while she moved him a few steps toward the bed. Then she finally let out the laugh that she'd been stifling for a moment.

"What's so damn funny?" Daryl asked, his words sounding much harsher than his voice depicted at the moment.

"You could almost be dancing now," Carol said, satisfied to finally free him of the shirt that he shucked off quickly. "You're moving with me…wherever I go…little by little. You're moving with…"

She broke off and unbuttoned his jeans next, working the fabric down and gently scratching at his lower belly before sliding her fingers down into his underwear and finding him. She stroked him gently and bit her lip when she saw his response flicker across his face.

"You're moving with what you feel," she growled at him, not hiding her smiled.

He closed his eyes dramatically for a moment and then wrestled with her dress in such a manner that she let go of him long enough to pull it over her head. When she returned her hand, he pushed his under the cups of her bra and squeezed her breasts, causing her to gasp for air.

"I like what I'm feelin'," he said, his voice deeper than before.

"I like what I'm feeling too…" Carol said, giving him a squeeze that made him move his hands from her breasts to stop her action.

He chuckled when he held her hand in his.

"An' you gonna have ta stop feelin' it you don't wanna end this show 'fore we so much as get started," he said.

Carol laughed softly at him and pushed herself against him again, pulling his head down with her free hand and kissing him again with more intention than before.

"Maybe we should…practice more dancing?" She asked, trying to force herself to keep a straight face when he looked at her like he was confused and caught in a storm.

"Dancin'?" He asked.

She nodded.

"You know…they say it's the oldest dance in history," Carol said. "And…practice does make perfect…and I do think you're a much better dancer than you give yourself credit for…"

Daryl seemed to catch on immediately because he caught her around the ribs and, in a move that might have at any other time seemed unnecessarily rough to her, tossed her onto the bed, immediately dragging his fingers down her side to catch her underwear and pull them off in the most fluid motion that could be made with her assistance.

He tossed them before he came out of his own pants and underwear, and Carol got rid of her bra, no longer interested in pretense.

When Daryl eased down on the bed, kissing her as he came and pulling her body close to his, she wrapped her legs around him to welcome him warmly into the space.

"Maybe I don't hate dancin' so damn much after all," he said, moving enough to harass one of her breasts with his mouth.

Carol tipped her head back, enjoying all the feelings of this even more than she'd enjoyed the breeze before.

"I knew you'd dance with me," she said, her breath coming out more ragged than she'd expected. "Before the end of the night…I knew you'd dance with me."


End file.
